Beatrice Book II: Identity
by Ben Alexander
Summary: When Beatrice is murdered by an old foe, her spirit lives on, travelling through strange worlds, and encountering forgotten truths of her past. Beatrice may be dead, but her journey will affect the futures of all. Being revised.
1. Running

**Beatrice  
****Book II:  
Identity**

_Chapter 1: Running_

Whatever would end up happening to me in the future-- distant or near, whichever, I knew one thing for absolute sure, and it was this: I couldn't forget... I could not forget what had happened to me in the past, and if I was somehow able to-- as so many of us have attempted, it would end up being both a blessing and a curse for me. Why? Because of everything that had happened to me, I had been made into a different person, and although half the time I spent wandering the streets, searching for answers, I wanted to just drop down dead, I knew that if I did, it would have a negative impact on everything-- although sometimes, I just didn't give a damn, this was nevertheless the truth on the matter. The prophecy had stated that I was the link between this world and the others, and if that prophecy was indeed correct, I was the only thing that could save it. The energy from everything that had happened to me in the last decade was what kept me going; a fuel in the never ending hell that life is. I could not forget, and although part of me wanted to forget, the other part wanted me to remember the pain forever. If I remembered the pain, then that meant that the people I had lost would somehow live on-- and that, morbid as it was, was actually quite comforting. Their memories gave me a reason to live-- and a reason to fight. Since they had died, and I had been blessed with life, I would have to live for them, as much as for myself. And if I fought with all my might, I was almost sure that everything would repair itself once again, and my life would be entirely whole again. If I was able to stop whatever was destined to happen from happening, then everything would reverse itself once again, and I would be whole. But was being whole again even possible…? After so many years of doubt, fear, and anxiety, I was now made utterly unsure of this. I wanted to believe in the possible restoration of my previous untroubled life, but I was doubtful of its possibility. After all, the past decade or so hadn't been too "normal" or anything similar to that.

Ever since I had returned to this dismal world in mid 2008, I had been trying my best, albeit in vain, to get as far away as possible from every single thing that reminded me of my former lives… I wanted to have the ability to forget everything that had happened to me in the past nine years, as I stated before, in order to simply move on, and _live. _But I knew that if I could forget those horrors, I'd probably be even more of a useless bum than I already was today.

I was living a double life now; half of the time, I wanted to forget, and the other half of the time, I wanted to remember, and stop the prophesized horrors involving the death of a world that had been conveyed to me only last year-- although last year seemed like centuries ago. Had I been a bit smarter, when Elaine sent me back home, I would have taken along the bag of jewels and gold the King had given me. I could have pawned them, and gotten some decent cash to start a better life for myself-- but my living situation was pretty irrelevant in the long run. What mattered was the future: I had to stop the prophesized horrors from ever happening. If millions of lives-- not just one or two were lost at one time, I would forever hold myself responsible, and I would hate myself even more.

I had been out of contact with Elaine for a while; I had seen her in a few dreams, but ever since that day when she had helped me get back home, she had disappeared from my life, and I tried not to wonder what she was up to. I tried to keep myself from being _too _selfish over her; after all, she was a spirit now. Maybe spirits had different agendas than living beings… but then again, being a spirit was simply _no _excuse to be useless as well. Hadn't those dead guys in the Bible proved to be damn helpful at times? Couldn't Elaine come through for me now? I needed her, after all. Sure, I wasn't a waif, but I needed some help…

Her being useless… hopefully not. Maybe her helping me was going through a rough time; a dry-spell, so to speak. Maybe when the right time came, she would simply pop out of nowhere, and make all of my wishes come true… Wait. I was no Cinderella, and that was _far too _cliché to ever happen for me. Although, that Cinderella shit _had _been prevalent in my life when that skank, Jessica and her twit parents had forced me to do hard labor for them in D'Nalge… Well, maybe Elaine was being kept busy-- after all, she _had _informed me that I wasn't her only godchild, and she had to continue to look after her other godchildren-- even after death. Maybe there was someone out there who _was _a true waif, and needed her full attention; _I _couldn't be her sole responsibility. After all, I was already an adult in the eyes of the world. Maybe she expected me to pretty much be looking after myself. Elaine must have deemed me pretty able-- she probably thought I could stand on my own two feet without any assistance. I could, but I still needed _some _help; otherwise, I wouldn't be stuck in shitty places like _this._

As if for emphasis on the thought, I now chose to look up at the ceiling of the large room which I found myself in; I had haunted this place, and many others like it ever since coming back to that sphere I loved; earth. I didn't love these places, however… Quite the contrary. I despised the shit out of them. There were others like me here as well; I felt a heavy sigh escape from my chest. For over a year now, I had been living in places like this all over the city-- scratch that. The state. I could have been in _my _home as opposed to some filthy homeless shelter, but as I stated before, my housing choices didn't _really _matter in the long run-- did anything?

Besides, I had been in there.

I had been in the house that I had once shared with my parents, and the thought of staying there as a practical refugee had been frightening for me. Sure, living on the streets was no picnic, but I'd rather be here than in the house where both of my parents had been murdered in cold blood; their deaths causing my journey to begin. If only that journey could have begun with both my parents alive. Their living would have made everything so much easier on me…

I had been going from shelter to shelter for over a year now, and whatever way I looked at myself, I was a wreck! I _hated _myself now… I spent days moping around the streets, knowing that it would _never _help me find a better life, and yet I continued to do it only because there was nothing better for me to do, only to spend the long nights in homeless shelters… Eating thin soup that tasted like slightly seasoned water every single night… Sleeping in cots surrounded by bums and low lives… _I wanted it all to end…_

I was running from everything that had happened, and yet I found reminders of the past everywhere; a blonde woman with striking features would remind me of Jacqueline, while a tall man would remind me of my father. I ran from everything, and it continued to follow.

But it wouldn't end… It simply would not end until I admitted to myself the truth. And the truth was this: I was scared. _Scared of my destiny…_

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"You lived on the streets long, sweetie?" a falsely warm and kind voice asked, bringing me out from my deep thoughts; I rolled my eyes at the question that never failed to be asked. I continued to stare at the date on a nearby calendar that hung on the faded walls; _July 1st… _what was the importance? It seemed like something important, but what…? An anniversary…? Holiday…? I raked my mind for the answer, but came up short.

I lost myself in thought once again, as I tended to now that there was hardly anything to keep my attention, and then a small cough brought me out of my semi-stupor, and I remembered to answer the woman's unimportant question, "Um… Yeah," I replied, lamely, watching the older woman pouring a ladle full of the steaming soup into my waiting bowl. She was one of those broads who, in order to keep themselves looking "younger" kept their hair dyed. I nearly snickered when I realized that her roots sure as hell needed some touching up-- her hair was dyed a funny auburn color, while she wore huge-ass diamonds in her ears. I had to admit that the uncaring bitch was pretty well-off, and I couldn't help but feel slight envy towards her, "Thanks," I murmured, as I walked away from the counter, trying to find an empty seat in the swarming shelter-- it was filling up quickly. I stole a glance behind me, and found about fifty more people waiting for the crappy meal; I realized that I had been lucky to have gotten there as early as I had… The poor suckers who got their later on would get the thinnest soup-- that meant the slop I was eating would be watered down at least two more times. I had had the unfortunate encounter with the flavor a couple times before. I shuddered.

"Ah, honey," the woman suddenly whispered, grabbing ahold of my left arm with one of her wrinkled leather hands; I nearly screamed at their touch, and narrowly missed dropping the bowl of soup, "Tried to do yourself in?" she sounded sympathetic-- _pitying; _worse than any of the other bullshit I had to endure from the hired people who worked at the shelters, I absolutely _despised _it when they tried to sound caring, "What?" I asked, truly miffed, and she gestured towards the scar on my left arm, shaking her head as if I had taken a razor blade to it, "That wasn't very wise of you, girl," she whispered, her false sympathy growing, "you have your whole life ahead of you-- don't you realize that?"

"I didn't try to kill myself-- had I, it would have been a shotgun to the head. That cutting shit usually doesn't work the first couple of times," I tore out of her clutches, and rushed off once again, before she could give me any more of her "motherly advice." I was seething.

Sure. I'd been asked the question a couple of times before in the last six months, and I always gave the same variation of my "shotgun remedy," but all the same, it annoyed me more and more each time I heard it asked; I hated how they could just stand there, and act like they actually gave a damn about anyone's lives other than their own.

But it didn't matter. For all I knew, the bitch would get run over by a bus the following morning-- hopefully she would. Talk about Karma, and besides, I had other things on my mind to worry about just right now.

_July 1st…? _I wondered, continuing to rake my innermost memories for the significance of the date, and then it came back to me with such ferocity it was almost as if _I'd _been hit by a bus. I just hadn't thought about it in so long because for the past five years, I had never really known the date or anything-- I had never known when this day had come, and for three years before that, it had been utterly ignored by my father, save for the occasion that he and that skag, Jacqueline had decided to "tie the knot." _July 1st, 2009… Today is my twentieth birthday. I was supposed to be a Sophomore in college! I was supposed to have a job, and a place of my own by now. _I took a seat at one of three empty tables (there were thirty-six in all); no one joined me, and I was glad of this, as a few of the city's finest perverts had taken to soliciting me for sexual favors behind the dumpster lately, and had offered to pay me upwards of fifteen dollars to buy myself a "nice bottle of vodka." Three of the five guys who had come to me with similar requests had gotten some pretty bad bloody noses; the first two had merely shocked me into disbelief, and I had been unable to react save for a timid "Buzz off." So, no one joined me now because they all thought I was crazy. I didn't give a fuck, because I heard their ramblings late at night; _they _were the ones who were bonkers, and why should I even want to associate myself with such losers? I bolted down my pitiful supper quickly, which of course tasted like water, in order to avoid the stares of two of the guys who had believed me to be a prostitute. One of them had a cherry-red nose, and I couldn't help but chuckle. At around eleven fifteen, I decided to go to bed; by then the thirty-six tables had been cleared out of the room, and had been replaced by about one hundred and fifty cots; I found one of the less dirty ones, and lay down.

And to the noises of snoring men, my thoughts of destiny and shaskas are drowned out, and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

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"Wake up, little lady," someone was now whispering; his deep voice bringing me from out of my semi-pleasant sleep almost instantly.

I blinked sleep from out of my eyes. I could barely see anything; my eyes opened only to peer into the deep darkness of night, "What the hell--?"

"Wake up," the guy repeated, and the stench of rotgut wine on his breath led to my eyes opening wide, and I stared at his face, as everything came into focus; he looked like your everyday rapist/drug artist. Just my luck. I groaned at the sight of him; I'd met a couple of people like him before here, and they were trouble_makers, _"What do you want?" I asked, yawning, and trying to sound every bit as tough as I could, although I couldn't quite pull it off due to the fact that despite the sickening-smelling breath, my eyes were trying to glue themselves back together.

"I need _somewhere _to sleep, little lady," he replied, smiling wickedly, and I noticed, despite the darkness, that he had yellowed teeth; years of neglect caked on in the form of plaque. I shuddered, glad that I had been given a toothbrush by in a "care package" of sorts the state had provided for nobodies of my kind.

"Do you _have _to call me that?" I demanded, more annoyed by his nickname than the fact that he had rudely awoken me, "So, I have the pleasure of getting woken up in the middle of the night just because Mr. Beddy-Bye feels like getting in a good night's sleep?" I rolled my eyes, looking around the darkened room at the dozens of the dozing homeless, "Bother someone else, if you don't mind," I muttered, "I'm going back to sleep," I closed my eyes once again, and it was then that he began to shake me.

"Come on," he urged.

"Dear God," I yelled, jumping out of bed, and waking nearly half of the room in the process, "All right! All right! Fuck! Take your goddamn cot, and just leave me the hell alone," he stared at me like I was crazy, and without bothering to watch him climb into my cot, I walked through the open doors of the shelter, and paused to give him one final piece of my mind, "Don't choke in your sleep and die!" I yelled over my shoulder from the threshold, and then I wandered out into the streets, in search of shelter from the cold; knowing that I had most likely succeeded in awakening the rest of the sleeping beauties-- sans the ones who were in drug-induced sleeps from which waking was more difficult.

If there's one thing I hate, it's the city at night.

You never know what could end up happening to you.

One time, I saw some homeless guy stab some arbitrary bimbo to death for the ten bucks she had in her wallet.

It's a jungle out there.

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_It's another day... My eyes snap open, and I look at the world around me... It's strange... The sun seems to have been plucked from the sky... _Where is the sun...? _I wonder, groggily, as muffled screams stop abruptly._

_I stand up, and look around at my surroundings... The world has been cast in a black shadow. _What has happened? _I wonder, panicked... No one is on the streets... I am alone in a strange world. I scream, and feel my heart beginning to pound in my chest. _What has happened! _I pace the empty streets, searching for _any _sign of life, but find none. Then, I know what has happened... _The apocalypse! The prophecy! _A world has ended, and I am the soul survivor... The shaskas have had their ultimate revenge..._

"Beatrice..." _a voice whispers, from behind me._

"_Who's there?" I call out, frightened, as Jacqueline's form appears in front of me, _"You cannot escape the past..." _she hisses, _"You cannot continue to run away from the truth any longer... You must face it."

_And she laughs cruelly, as I fall to the floor dead._

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"**_JACQUELINE!" _**I screamed, waking with a start; shocked by the strange vision of the dead earth… I looked around my surroundings. The streets were indeed empty, but judging by the distant sounds of police sirens, the city was still in full swing. It was not yet dawn; sometimes I absolutely hated sleeping in empty alleyways; they could be so dangerous, but every now and then, it was good to get away from the shelters-- although tonight, I had hardly had a choice.

A cat screeched nearby, and Jacqueline's words echoed in my mind, loud, clear and frightening: _'You cannot escape the past... You cannot run away from the truth any longer...' _Her words actually meant a lot to me. She was right. She was absolutely right.

I sighed, and shivered as a strong gust of wind blew into my face, and a flying newspaper smacked me smartly across it.

_What am I to do? _I wondered, pulling the newspaper off of my face, and stretching out my legs; _I cannot run anymore... _It was time to face what would lay in store for me-- for everyone, actually. I had not had a dream like that in a very long time, and it was a warning-- a signal to alert me to the fact that something was going to happen soon-- something that would change everything once again, and I was determined to stop it... Feeling that my back was damp, and noticing that it was raining, I stood up, and began walking away from the city, and back towards my hometown; remembering the way from the signal time I had walked it... It was time that I called upon an old friend who would help me no matter what...


	2. Carla

_Chapter 2: Carla_

Morning came quickly.

Long before I would have expected, the small pinpoints that were the city lights disappeared one by one in quick succession, replaced by the warm glow that announced the arrival of the sun's light. Night was what truly frightened me about the city, and now that the day was here, it was rendered harmless-- and although the same crazies who raped, robbed, and killed at night were still there, they wouldn't do anything to a harmless girl at dawn. I was safe, and before I knew it, I was out of the turbulent city, and nearing the neighborhoods that I had grown up around.

As I continued to walk, feeling less and less burdened with each step, more and more houses became familiar to me. I walked past some of the same '97 Dodges-- landmarks that had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember… A time_ before _Jacqueline. _Before _I had learned of the prophecy that concerned me.

My stomach was knotting up and my head was pounding, and yet all the while, I felt good about being on my way back there-- the conflicting emotions I was now feeling were full of enough ambiguity to make any philosopher's head turn.

My feet were throbbing, and felt as if they were about to fall off, and yet I pressed on. I _had _to get there. My sneakers felt tightened. I sweat buckets although it was a relatively nice day, and the sun was gently shining down on the world.

Although I knew that it was ridiculous, I felt hesitation when I at last saw the winding road that was Postton street. My heart fell into my stomach, an in my mind, I felt it being eaten away by the acid. I wanted to turn right back, and get the fuck out of dodge. I couldn't handle it; I couldn't walk down that street and see how everything had changed. It would kill me, but I had to do it nonetheless, so before I could tell my feet to stop, I was walking towards the end of the street; hoping against all hope that the flood of memories and emotions that were causing a monstrous case of déjà vu to course through the air would not cause me to simply break down and cry.

I had to at least try to remain strong-- without strength, where would I be now? Six feet under, probably. I bit my lip, until I nearly gagged on the metal taste of blood, and then quickened my pace; before I knew it, there it was.

I faced my old house, and frowned angrily at the painted-- and now quite faded _FOR SALE _sign that was still posted in the front-lawn-- just a few feet away from the front-door; I had first noticed the thing the previous year, but it hadn't made as much an impact until right now-- maybe it was the gloomy way it added to the overall ambience of the place. I shuddered. The previously green grass was faded and yellowing. The house looked like a nightmare when compared to the other dozen houses that surrounded it on either side-- a crow among swans. The rest of the world faded away, and I took myself back to a time when everything that was now wrong with the house had been inexistent. The grass became green again, the house less ominous, and the ugly sign disappeared in a flash of angry white light. Returned the day when I could simply stroll on inside, and find my parents making dinner in the kitchen-- grinning from ear to ear as I entered the house; inquiring as to my day in school. A stupid smile spread across my face, but was simply wiped off again as reality returned to me; those times were long gone, and reliving them was useless.

I could not live in the past; smiling wistfully at every reminder. I wasn't a naïve girl of eleven any longer; I had grown and matured.

Threatening to return if I ventured to stay, I shook the images away from my mind for all time, and sighing at the sad sight that had become the house, turned around in the other direction, and began walking once again. I shook my head at my stupidity; old Mrs. Robles-- if she was still alive had been a nosy, bitter old bitch when I had lived there, and if she still had it in her, would definitely call the cops and tell them my whereabouts-- that would lead to mountains of trouble… I stole a glance at her house; the curtains were drawn over the windows; thank God. I had been staring at my old house for over five minutes. An ancient dog barked from behind a gated fence as I continued to walk, and I smiled at it; I had known her well when I had been younger. The dog at least ceased its barking just as I realized that I had at last reached my destination… I felt an odd combination of excitement, despair, and fear as I stared at the vine-covered two-story home that had always housed my best friend and her parents for as long as I could remember. I took in a very deep breath as I slowly walked up the stone steps that led to the front door. I stood there on the doorstep, and listened for voices from the inside… _Maybe no one's home, _I thought, still half-panicked, noticing the empty driveway and garage, _but, there's only one way to find out… _With that encouraging thought, my right hand formed a tight fist, and my palms heavily perspiring from both the heat and my inner feelings, knocked three times on the hard wood of the door. No answer. I knocked again, and at long last heard footsteps quickly approaching the door; the door soon opened to reveal a young black woman in her mid-twenties, wearing an old Ramone's tee-shirt from the '90's, and her hair done up in a ponytail. I smiled in semi-disbelief when I realized that she did not recognize me after so long, but her face then contorted into a strange look; a combination of shock and disbelief, "Beatrice," she whispered, choking up at the sight of me, "I thought-- I thought--"

She shook the rest of the statement away, and I nodded; we didn't need words. I knew what she meant. We quickly embraced; tears stung my eyes at the reunion, "My God," I whispered, "it's been years," I finished the statement, and pulled away from her, still trembling from the wave of emotions that had just buzzed past me-- but most of all by the notion that after years of my pulling the disappearing act, Carla would remember.

"No shit, Sherlock," she retorted after a moment of awkward silence in that same sarcastic tone I had missed so, and forgetting all my anxieties and worries at our reunion, I burst out laughing.

After the both of us had recovered from the hilarity, I decided to try to explain my sudden reappearance, "Carla, I--"

"Who's at the door?" a young man's voice suddenly asked, catching me off guard, and cutting off my voice abruptly, for without warning, there he was; slipping his arms around Carla's small waist, and making puppy eyes at her, "Car, who is it?" he asked, as his eyes slowly met mine; the tears were instantly gone from my blue eyes as I recognized who he was-- and in that same smarmy voice I had known and loathed for so long whispered, "Damn, Beatrice… I thought you were dead or something."

"Funny how things can work out in life, isn't it?" I quickly retorted, unscathed by his comment, yet glowing with anger; my hatred for the boy rising.

Carla glanced back and forth between the two of us anxiously; almost as if expecting one-- or both of us to explode at each other, but no. Save for a slight outburst in the eighth grade in homeroom, between the boy and I, words had always been exchanged quietly and brutally. After deeming the outburst implausible, Carla grinned a guilty, sympathetic smile, and then gestured for me to follow her into the house; my disbelief nearly led me to turn around and go back to the streets. Was the world going whacko? Out of all the single men in the world, she had chosen _him? _Carla was actually _dating _the little bastard--? Back in middle school-- all that shit he had talked about her behind her back, and now--

There was an awkward moment of silence between the three of us; it was obvious that no one wanted the task of breaking it, but at last Carla spoke up, after having gently closed the door behind us, "But where have you _been?" _she asked, turning to me, as I sat down on the couch in the living-room; I could instantly tell that Carla's parents had been doing some major redecorating for the entire living room (including the couch) was sparkling, white, and recently bought at some noble place of business like IKEA. I stared at Carla as she took a seat on a smaller couch opposite mine, as I debated answering, her questions continued, "I mean… your dad died, and then your step mom disappeared, and then _you _disappeared… It was all over the news, for God's sake, Beatrice. That fowl-play shit was suspected, but nothing ever came of it because Jacqueline had basically evaporated into thin-air. No trace of her, _or _of you. You were labeled a poster child for 'mental abuse,' and they suspected you had either run away from home, or had killed yourself. Then, your dad's mom just withered away after you were gone, and on her deathbed, she requested to be buried beside you… There's an empty grave over there on Rose Hills."

"I know," I replied, as the boy whom I so utterly despised took the empty seat beside Carla, "I went there to visit my parents' graves today," it wasn't a total lie-- I _had _visited their graves… just not in the recent past.

"But what happened that night, Beatrice? They say you just disappeared from your room."

I raked my mind for memories and images that could easily be manipulated into believable lies from that night-- I couldn't tell her the truth. Not yet. Doubtful she'd believe me, but with her bastard of a boyfriend here, it would be made all the more awkward. I opened my mouth, closed it, and then opened it again before responding, "I found him at the foot of the stairs that night, and something happened-- I was knocked unconscious, and woke up in the hospital. I didn't know what to do. Jacqueline was gone, and I knew she was responsible… I was crazy with fear and anger; I guess I just wanted to find the bitch and kill her, so I jumped out of the window, and left town for good…"

Carla suddenly began to weep. This action taking me by great surprise, I stared down at my trembling hands, feeling overwhelming guilt at having lied, and blinking a second wave of tears away. I looked up after a few seconds to find the boy now stroking Carla's black hair; obviously some way of calming her, "I know it's all so fucked up, Carla," I said, "and I've told you everything I know…"

"Are you sure?" she suddenly asked, looking directly into my eyes.

"Yes," I whispered, deeply taken aback by how easy it had been to lie-- the streets certainly hadn't done anything for my morals.

I really had changed.

"But, after. Beatrice, why didn't you call me-- why didn't you tell me that all those dreams I'd had of you dead were nothing. Beatrice, I was scared when you disappeared. I thought-- I thought--" her sobs returned, and she buried her face in her hands.

"Calm down, Car," the boy suddenly whispered, causing me to remember that he was still here-- I'd nearly forgotten.

More silence. Well, not really; Carla's heavy sobs bounced off the walls, and I nearly regretted having returned. This went on for about five minutes, and weakness overcame me twice; my eyes met with the boy's, and I stared defiantly back. The deceitful little bastard!

The "silence" ended; "Well, did you ever find out what happened to her?"

I shook my head; another lie, "No. My stepmother was nothing but a filthy little…" I drifted off, nearly saying the rarely used "C-WORD." I refrained, as that was the only curse-word Carla despised, _"…bitch," _I finished, angrily, "I know she's still out there. Hopefully dead," another lie. If I wasn't before, I was surely going to hell now.

The boy looked up at me again, now glaring, and I felt like slapping him. What was his problem?

And then, the boy spoke up for the first time, other than his "caring" quips to Carla; his voice took on its usual smarmy, hateful tone, but before he spoke, a taunting laugh rang in my ears from him, causing me to grit my teeth in annoyance, "But where have you _been, _Beatrice?" his cold eyes once again glared at me, and I gritted my teeth a tad bit harder to restrain the urge to lash out at him Trouble _had _followed me around, but that didn't mean I liked to invite it. I had much suppressed anger inside me, but I couldn't fight with him just bad. Maybe it would have been a good idea to have performed one of those sexual favors-- maybe I could have arranged for a bum to kill the boy as payment-- but then I'd be a slut, so…

Carla stared at me, also hungry for a response as I formed an answer, "In and around Barstow," I answered; my voice hardly louder than a whisper, "I've been living on the streets for a while," I finally met her eyes again, without fear, for I was actually telling the truth.

"Oh, my God, Beatrice," Carla suddenly gushed, jumped up from her seat, and joined me on my couch, "You must have been so scared," she wrapped her arms around me, and my heart began to beat with less and less ferocity; I responded to the embrace my closing my eyes in deep thought.

"I was," I answered truthfully, as long suppressed tears finally began falling from my eyes.

"So, that's all?" she whispered, as she pulled away from me, "That's where you've been all these years?" her watery eyes met mine again, and I looked into them pleadingly; nodding my head and hoping that she was buying it.

She stared at me long and hard, before answering, "I believe you," she whispered, reassuringly, "but--"

"But _I _thought that you'd fallen into some fairy story!" Travis suddenly interrupted, cruelly, and then he burst out laughing.


	3. Travis

_Chapter 3: Travis_

I glared at him, seething from the inside out, and not even giving a damn about the fact that he could tell. After all, he was glaring right back; not even a little bit changed from the day I had last seen his ugly face. An annoying little voice in the back of my head was warning me of pending danger; it told me to break the staring match and just jump out the window to escape said pending danger, but I ignored it, and went with the more natural approach: look down the ugly little bastard until pride allowed him to break the stare. He had gotten the better of me a few times before in the past, but that wouldn't be happening today. The arbitrary bastard had practically come out of the blue, and nearly caught me off guard, but that didn't mean he could get the better of me.

Try as I might, I just couldn't believe it. Carla was dating _him? _Out of all the assholes we had known back in our schooldays, she had somehow ended up with this guy. And to think that I had believed myself to have known her so well! Maybe returning to my hometown _had _been a bad idea. I sighed; _Just stay calm, Beatrice, _I warned myself, biting my tongue until I tasted blood in order to restrain the urge of beginning to scream at him, and disrupt Carla's activities upstairs. There would be time enough for shouting matches later on… I didn't want to upset Carla after all.

I continued to stare, blinking every now and then. Finally, about three minutes into the match, he broke our contact, and I sighed, relieved that I had won.

My thoughts of pending danger returned; I shooed them off. Travis wasn't dangerous. He was a nothing. A nobody, and if he thought that he could--

"So, how have you been?" Travis suddenly asked; yanking me out of my thoughts, and back to the grim reality that I was still stuck in a room with the boy who had made it his duty to inflict misery upon everyone else but himself throughout our school years; the boy who had thought it amusing when my own mother had died. The little bastard.

"Come on, Travis," I hissed, "Like you'd even care," I muttered under my breath; deciding to throw all cautions to the winds and simply lash out at the asshole… after all, he _did_ deserve it. It wasn't like he was some innocent little bystander that had been the perfect friend.

"_Cold," _he remarked, as the water in the upstairs shower began to hiss, and I prayed that Carla would finish, "Can't a guy ask a question around here?" he laughed. I rolled my eyes; the statement was both annoying and quite familiar… Who had uttered a similar question? I couldn't place my finger on it, so I rolled my eyes a second time.

"Shut the fuck up, Travis," I replied, after a beat, "Mock innocence isn't cute. You should know that by now."

"Well, you certainly know how to hold a grudge, Beatrice. Not that I'm surprised, but I'd think that even you would have the ability to be a _little _decent towards your best friend's boyfriend."

The stone around my neck glowed angrily; I briefly wondered if he would sense the strangeness of the object. Probably not. Travis hadn't been a boy of wits after all, "Whatever," I rolled my eyes, realizing that the stone was probably offended by him… I couldn't say I blamed it for that, "Whatever," I rolled my eyes, sighing exasperatedly, "Besides, look who's talking, because it seems like _you _haven't changed a bit in five years as well; you're just as immature and pathetic as the day I met you-- although I must compliment you on the fact that your complexion cleared up: Congratulations."

His peeling laughter caused both my gaze to become more intent still, and my slender hands to ball up into extremely tight fists, "Sorry, Bea," he whispered, wiping tears away from his eyes, "But if you don't like my dating Carla, there's nothing you can do about it. What can I say? The girl simply _lives _for me."

"I _highly _doubt that. Carla just needs some sense talked into her. You always were the little manipulator."

"But, I've changed so, Beatrice! Ask Carla. She'll tell you," his grin widened, "I was the only guy to ever love Carla-- to ever _appreciate _her. After you went and disappeared, Carla was a mess. She _needed _someone, and when she found him, it was me."

"Oh, wow," I replied, "that was just about the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard in my whole life. This isn't some lame low-budget film, Travis. This is life, and I know a liar when I see one."

"But, it's true. Every word. Ask Carla how much I love her-- although I must admit the fact that I never pictured myself with such a girl of _inbreeding," _he finished the statement, and grinned a wicked grin, "But what can I say? She's _great _in bed, and that's all that matters."

I was shocked. Before I knew what was happening, I had flown across the room, and had punched him right in his stomach, knocking his wind out, "How dare you?" I hissed, "How _dare _you?" I repeated, as he wheezed for breath, "Listen here, buddy. If you fuck with Carla, you're fucking with me too."

"I'm not scared of you, bitch," he replied, after regaining his breath, "Carla loves me. Carla chose me, and she won't listen to you. She won't _believe _you."

"She will, Travis. She will. I'll make her see that you're a--" I cut myself off. The flow of the water from the upstairs shower died down to a drip, and I took my seat on the other side of the room again, calming down, and acting as if nothing had happened. A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and Carla emerged, wearing an old pink bathrobe I had given her on her fifteenth birthday. I smiled, as I realized that she had indeed missed me, "Beatrice, I was just flipping through TV Guide," she said, holding up the magazine to show me, "There's a horror movie marathon on tonight. I figured we could make some popcorn and watch them-- a sleepover just like when we were kids," her eyes lit up warmly, my smile widened, and she descended the stairs as I remembered those times we had shared-- and how they had all been cut so shortly.

"Sounds like fun," Travis interjected, causing me to roll my eyes in annoyance, "But there's just one problem, babe. You know how I loathe that kind of shit," he stood up, as if for emphasis, and walked towards her, as she came down the landing, "That's okay," Carla cooed, pausing at the bottommost step, and beginning to pat her hair dry, "you don't have to stay. I was thinking along the lines of 'Girls' night in, and boys' night out,'" I snickered to myself; Travis probably didn't have _any _friends to spend the evening out with, and it was then that she began massaging his shoulder blades tenderly, and I gagged at the sight of them-- it reminded me of my father and Jacqueline; Travis even moaned slightly as Jacqueline would have given the same circumstances. I cringed.

"Okay," he whispered, taking her hands in his, and leading her towards the doorway, "Would you mind one more kiss before I left?"

"Of course not," she replied, simply; wrapping her arms around his waist, as if they were all alone, and proceeding to open her mouth to allow his tongue entrance.

After what seemed like several hours passed, their make-out session ended, and Travis let himself out, pausing to wave goodbye at me with mock enthusiasm when Carla's back was turned… The little bastard.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Would you mind shutting the window, Beatrice?" Carla's voice suddenly asked, dragging me out of my horror-flick induced semi-coma. Ah. How I had missed the old days…

"Sure," I replied, getting up, and walking over to the window; closing it, and shutting out the freezing-cold draft, "should I lock it?" I added, after a pause as I adjusted to the temperature change.

"Yeah," Carla replied, and I motioned to do so, "Thanks," she added, as I retook my seat, "No problem," I replied. The evening had been like this so far; casual and laid-back. So far, no tough questions that would involve clever lies to cover-up the truth… at least not yet.

I stole a glance at the pictures on the coffee table; _Carla and Travis in Vegas, Carla and Travis in New York-- What the fuck? Traveling already? Great._

My mind was buzzing once again.

It just didn't make sense. It was the most unlikely pairing in the world; _Travis and Carla… Carla and Travis. _Whatever way you said it, it just didn't click. What the hell had happened to her? She seemed nearly the same as the day I had last seen her; sarcastic, fun-loving, and kind, but Travis…? I bit my tongue, and reached for a small handful of popcorn.

I moistened the kernel with my tongue and chewed gently, contemplating the day's events. If I thought about them as a _couple _all night, I was likely to go mad.

I shook the idea of Travis and Carla's canoodling away from my mind with one final shudder. I concentrated on the amount of gore showing up on the screen, the warmth of being in a house as opposed to a shelter or the streets… Suddenly, more questions entered my mind; what would I do in the morning? I had come here for a reason. I needed help. There was something I was meant to do, and despite the _highly _unbelievable aspects of everything that had happened to me, Carla would eventually believe me, and she would give me help. All that was left was the gargantuan problem of gathering up enough courage to tell her the truth. After all, I had lied to her earlier, and I knew that she somehow sensed this. Best friends always share that bond; they can tell when the other is happy, sad, or in this case, lying. But, all the same, how could I possibly tell her the truth?

It was no good.

It was now or never; my mouth opened, and I decided to tell her everything. She had to know-- _I _had to know that she would be willing to help me, "Carla, I--"

"It's weird, isn't it?" Carla suddenly asked, taking me by surprise, and causing me to choke on my words, and be silent, as a commercial rolled by reaching out to those who had been infected by the HIV/AIDS virus.

I nodded; knowing what she meant as she gave me another of her understanding smiles for which she had been quite famous for up until high-school, "It was weird for me too, the first couple of months we were going out… It was pretty tough."

_Months? _I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt coursing through my veins; _How could I have stayed away for so long...? _"How did it happen?" I asked, boldly, forgetting to ask her for help, by telling her my story, and sitting up, staring into my friend's face.

"Well, I hadn't really seen him that much since high-school graduation, and I just noticed him one day on campus... I don't know, he makes me laugh; he's changed, Beatrice," she added, seeing that I had raised a single eyebrow in a questioning manner, "He's _really _changed, and he's a very caring person once you've gotten to know him again. We never knew Travis Smith. He's a sweet, caring--"

As she rambled on, my thoughts continued to disagree with her, although I decided to remain silent, and nod my head in the right places, _No one ever changes, _I thought, _People like Travis Smith stay the same forever, _"What was it like out there?" Carla suddenly asked, after having finished her character analysis on Travis.

"What do you mean?" I asked, although I quickly realized what she was referring to.

"In Barstow-- on the streets."

I stared at her; unsure how to answer such a question; there were so many ways to answer her. I decided to give the condensed version as opposed to the dramatic interpretation I could give if I was in the right mood. "It was scary; some nights, I couldn't find a shelter because they were all full, so I'd just wander out into the streets again, and sleep in alleyways... There were lots of times when I'd question whether or not I'd ever wake up again..."

I drifted off, as Carla processed the information that I had just given her, "But why didn't you call someone-- _anyone; _you could have asked a police officer or a shelter worker for help-- they would have recognized you and your story, and besides, didn't your grandma live near Barstow?"

I nodded, "Carla, you just don't understand. I was scared. I couldn't come home as if nothing had happened... I wasn't ready until just yesterday, and even then, I had my doubts."

There was a moment of silence, and then interrupted by a question that instantly stirred up many old emotions and feelings within me, "Did you ever meet anyone?" Carla asked.

I stared at her, "Yeah. There was someone. I really loved him, we would have been married; I was even gonna move away with him," my eyes narrowed in anger, as I returned to that night at the ball in my mind-- when Jacqueline had murdered my fiancé; the only man I had ever-- or at least, _thought _I had loved... _Had I _really _loved him, though...?_

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"He died," I answered, truthfully.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm better now. It's been almost two years..."

"But what made you come back? There must have been _something."_

I yawned, as the inevitable answer issued from my mouth, "I guess I just accepted my destiny."

"Destiny?" she asked, as I closed my eyes; for some reason, the notion of sleep was overwhelming-- almost as if I had been put under a powerful spell; I could barely open my eyes to see her face again, "Beatrice, you really are a strange girl," I smiled, and drift off to sleep.

These would be the last words she would ever say to me.


	4. Betrayed

_Chapter 4: Betrayed_

_Drip... Drip... Drip..._

This was the extremely annoying sound that successfully awoke me from a rather peaceful sleep, that had been, thank God, deprived of both the nightmares and frightening thoughts that had haunted me for years. I suddenly panicked; where the hell was I...? Still waking, the day was fuzzy in my mind, and then I remembered that I was with Carla; I smiled, realizing that I actually felt at home here, but then the smile was wiped from off of my face as I remembered something that I had tried to blot out upon waking from my sleep; _A voice, _I thought, almost frightened, _Hadn't there been a voice...?_ I shook the thought from out of my mind, and was glad that I had had a peaceful sleep despite the circumstances concerning the stressful meetings with Carla and Travis. Despite those, the last couple of hours had given me a clean slate-- a blank sleep for a change, and I had a whole new life to begin. Carla would know the truth later on today, and either with her, or without, I would journey into whatever uncertainties that lay ahead of me.

I suddenly shivered; the room was freezing cold-- cold as ice. I shivered once again, and stared at the open window that was obviously the source of the cold-- but hadn't I closed the damn thing, and locked it too, hours ago? Oh, no matter. It was unimportant. Was it the cold that had awakened me? No. It was that damn sound alone that had done the trick; I had gotten used to the cold. First in the forest of D'Nalge at night, then in that nasty attic, and finally on the streets. Cold was nothing to me now. I shivered again. It was bothersome; had Carla opened the window again? Why would she have?

A gust of particularly cold wind suddenly rushed into the living-room, and I felt goose bumps forming all over my body; I pulled the blanket further over my head, and listened.

_Drip… Drip… Drip…_

Where the hell _was _that noise coming from, though…? I strained my ears to hear it better; I hadn't really heard something like that in ages, but nonetheless, I recognized it. It sounded almost like rain falling into a gutter, but it wasn't raining… I listened a bit more carefully; determined to name it.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… _A dripping faucet; that's what it was! My eyes widened, and I blinked sleep out of them; glancing around the living-room. I smiled; realizing that Carla had left the room as the floor beside the couch was now deprived of her slender sleeping form, _I hope that Travis didn't come back, _I suddenly thought, deciding that her leaving the room might have a darker side to it. I cringed at the thought of what the two of them could be up to upstairs if he had indeed returned… Shaking the images out of my head, I stared at the television across the room from me, and smiled when I found it to still be tuned on to the same channel that Carla and I had been watching before I had fallen asleep; now showing some low-budged horror flick from the early 40's or so. My hands flew across the red carpet; searching for the remote. Snatching it up from the floor at long last, I promptly flipped the television off; _Just like when we were kids, _I realized, yawning again.

I let the slender remote fall back to the floor once again, and rolled back over onto my side in order to drown out the unbearable sound, _Drip… Drip… Drip… _Strangely enough; as if by magic, the sound intensified, which left me feeling the urge to scream in order to attempt to make it stop from reaching my ears.

_Drip... Drip... Drip... _Well, it was no use; I simply had to investigate into the origin of the very annoying sound. I kicked off my covers, stood, and stretched; I figured that it was coming from the upstairs bedroom, so I quietly began to tiptoe up the stairs to see if my plausible hunch was indeed correct; when I entered the long hallway that led to the bathroom, I found that Carla's parents had put some new carpet in-- just like they had wanted to. I smiled, and continued to walk; the annoying sound continued, though with less ferocity now; it seemed content now that it had dragged me away from the comforts of my sleep.

I paused, unsure behind which door the bathroom was, and then I remembered: _'Third door to the left,' _Carla's voice echoed from so long ago from the occasion when I had asked her where the bathroom was nearly ten years before… I smiled at the memory, and at last stood outside the door.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… _the sound continued as the bathroom door swung open ajar. I pushed it fully open, and wandered inside; catching a glimpse of the billowing clouds of steam issuing forth from the bathtub, despite the fact that it was pitch dark. I flicked on a light-switch, and my eyes immediately adjusted to both the light, and the white fog that was swimming before my eyes. I breathed in the steam deeply, and felt nothing but pleasure as the sweet fragrances of apples and roses entered both my mind and body; causing me to forget the sound that had brought me here, and filling me with complete want.

The fragrance was intoxicating… Simply intoxicating.

I continued to breathe in the vapor, and then closed the door behind me; forgetting to lock it. In an instant, I had thrown off all of my street clothes, and had plunged into the warm, steamy water. I did this without giving it more than a second's thought. It was almost as if the fragrance was controlling me-- luring me into the bathtub.

I shut the faucet off, as the tub was full, and my spirit seemed to exit my body as the water purified me of age-old sins that had been committed ages ago; nightmares and uncertainties seemed to melt away as long caked-on dirt and grime washed away at long last. The year of living on the streets seemed to disappear along with everything; D'Nalge, the death of my fiancé-- even the deaths of my beloved parents… even fears of shaskas and destiny were now no more. The entire universe now seemed nonexistent as I purified myself in this _rebirth, _and yet, the sound continued although I had shut the faucet off, yet now, it no longer bothered me.

Nothing mattered anymore… I was free.

_Drip… Drip… Drip…_

The sound continued as I washed my hair, and yet I continued to pay no attention to it; lost in my own fantasy world where nothing troubling had ever befallen me, I was myself again. I wasn't the Beatrice who sought truth anymore. I was carefree-- happy, even; an adjective that had seemed long gone for so long instantly returned.

_Crrrrrreeeeeeaaaaaaaaaakkkk... _The door opened suddenly and without warning, just as I finished scrubbing out the gray dirt that had managed to hide away in my fingernails. I paid no attention to it-- although there now seemed to be a shadow hovering over me, "Carla?" I called, blinking shampoo out of my eyes, "Is that you?"

No answer.

_Drip… Drip… Drip…_

"Evening, Beatrice," a male voice suddenly whispered from behind me, and my heart instantly froze in my chest with fright.

The dreamlike atmosphere of the moment had suddenly turned nightmarish, "Travis?" I screamed, turning to face him, and sloshing water around in the tub, "Get away from me," I hissed the warning, but he ignored me, and ventured closer. He smiled a wicked smile, and I screamed an animal howl of fury as I fought to hide myself from him, "Get the fuck away from me," I warned again, suddenly wishing that this was all a dream, and I would wake up millions of miles away in a cold sweat.

He continued to approach me-- my mind buzzed with panicked questions that I knew would not be answered: _What was he doing...? Why was he here...? Where was Carla, and why was Travis smiling that dammed smile?_

"I'm naked!" I screamed, panicked; trying once again in vain to hide myself in the clear water.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, and a single word flashed through my mind causing my blood to run cold: _**RAPE.** _Was that why he was here? My heart beat with intense ferocity, and I felt my forehead beginning to sweat.

His eyes widened, "Oh, no, Beatrice," he whispered, almost sarcastically, "You need to grow up. You may be pretty-- no, let's face it. You're fucking gorgeous, but _that _is the farthest thing from my mind," his smile widened, "Unless that's what you want."

"You filthy little pig," I hissed, still frightened, "Get out. I'm nake--"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, shrugging his shoulders, "or at least not for you it doesn't… For you, my dear, nothing will matter soon."

And the sound continued, as if doing its best to add to the overall madness of the evening. That damned sound would not let up, not even for a second; _Drip… Drip… Drip…_

"What do you mean?" I asked, frightened, staring into his dull brown eyes, as he steadily walked closer towards me.

He smiled coldly, "Haven't you guessed that by now, Beatrice?" he asked, as a small dagger clattered onto the floor beside him; my eyes grew steadily wider, and he nodded, meaningfully, as I understood. The little bastard was going to kill me.

"**_GET THE FUCK AWAY!" _**I screamed, trying desperately to find a way out of the bathroom that avoided Travis and sure death; I stared above me; there was a window; it was less than a foot in both width and length-- there was no way in hell I could crawl out, and the only other way out was through the door. That was an impossibility as well. I realized the truth: I was trapped, **_"CARLA!" _**I wailed, hopelessly.

"She can't hear you," Travis whispered, smiling that sickening grin of his, "Not anymore, I mean."

"No!" I insisted, not wanting to believe the horrible truth-- not wanting to believe what had happened to my dear best friend practically right under my nose, "No!" I whispered again, frightened, but it was already so clear what had befallen her…

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded, as the sound continued, and at last, I realized what it was.

"I have my reasons," he replied, smugly.

_Drip… Drip… Drip…_

"Why are you doing this to me?" I repeated, as his hands inched closer towards my neck, ready to strangle me.

I screamed.

There was blood-- blood everywhere.

_There's blood on his hands! _I realized, frightened. Dark red blood was dripping from his large hands, and into the water, turning it redder by the second; my rebirth quickly becoming a death.

"Don't!" I begged, as his hands came to rest around my trembling neck, "What did you do to her," I asked, panicked, although I knew the answer,

"Only what I'm about to do to you," he whispered, "although I must confess, Bea… I'd prefer stabbing to drowning any day."

"Don't do this to me," I whispered, trying to mask my panic with crazy calm, "don't. Please."

"Don't beg me, Beatrice."

"I'm not begging with you. I'm try--"

"You stupid little bitch," he hissed, slamming my head against the back of the bathtub with incredible force; I gasped as blood issued forth from my mouth, and joined Carla's in the water, "don't grovel at my feet like the little slut that you are, Beatrice. You're dying tonight, like it or not. Just like that whore, Carla. Before you die, I'd like you to know someth--"

"No," I whispered, "No!" I screamed, and attempted to jump out of the bathtub. It was now or never. I had to get away from the murderer. I kicked at him, not caring that I was exposed anymore-- only holding onto the slight hope that I could escape from this duel alive. I grabbed for his hair-- his face-- his eyes-- anything, but it was useless, for he seemed to strike back with cat-like movements each time my hands narrowly grazed his skin. He had grown stronger throughout the years-- or I had grown weaker. I was not entirely sure; he was no longer the same boy I had known back in my school years; _He _has _changed, _I realized, almost howling with crazed laughter at the irony of Carla's words, "Please, don't--" but I could no longer speak, for his hands had once again wrapped themselves around my neck, and this time, they weren't resting at all. His eyes narrowed in hatred, and his grip tightened as he began to choke me. Everything began to fade away; _It's over, _I thought, in a faraway voice, _This is death… _I felt his hands pushing my head back into the warm, bloody water, until I simply could not breathe anymore. The scent of apples and roses now mingled with blood caused me to vomit a bit into the water, as I wished I had never returned here. _But I can't let him win, _I gasped for air, but it was useless. My lungs had already begun to fill with the water; _How can he be doing this to me…? _I wondered, but there was hardly any time left to wonder… I hated death. Death was everywhere and everything. Life continued to fade away…

Drowning was the most painful thing I had ever experienced before in my life-- the most painful thing that I would _ever _experience.

I closed my eyes, _But I cannot die without a fight, _the faraway voice repeated, and everything came back into focus-- but only for a moment; I stared into Travis's face, an despite the bloody water, I saw and heard everything clearly. I wondered what he meant as his lips formed the last words I would ever hear, "Remember this, Beatrice: Nothing is _ever _as it seems," and, his eyes yellowed and narrowed in utter hatred, while a forked tongue issued from within his mouth-- but only for a moment, and then it was gone again.

I wondered if I'd imagined it all.

But there was hardly any time for thoughts; my life was slipping away. There wasn't any time to fight. I had to give in-- give in to death.

I closed my eyes; I didn't want to see the bloody water any longer; I didn't want to see the look on Travis's face; the way he seemed so triumphant-- the way as if he seemed to be gloating the same way he had gloated when he had scored higher than me on an AP Bio exam years before…

I choked on the water.

I could not feel anything anymore; my memories left me. I wasn't anything anymore. I could not think at all. My mind was wiped blank, and then... complete darkness.


	5. Abyss

_Chapter 5: Abyss_

And so, I died.

Death was a lot more different than how I-- _anyone_ would have previously imagined. I mean, you hear all of those religious hoopla stories, folk tales, what have you about wandering around aimlessly until you come to some light at the end of the tunnel, but that's bullshit. There's no faint light that grows stronger and stronger with each step, and there is no tunnel. The only thing even _remotely _true about those tales of make-believe is the fact that it is extremely dark after your life has ended. Dark and cold… _freezing _cold; at least a hundred degrees below zero, but the cold doesn't bother you that much; sure, you shiver-- I'm pretty sure I turned blue, but once you're dead, and in that endless void, I'm pretty sure frostbite just isn't an option for you. It's pitch black, and it's freezing cold. And the whole time, you're spinning; just spinning around and around in endless circles; you can't even become dizzy for the fact that both the abyss is endless, and nothing but the cold and dark exist inside.

The abyss was a void of complete silence-- but sometimes, however, the silence was slightly interrupted by whispered names-- not just mine, for I heard an eerie _"Beatrice…" _a time or two, but for the most part, foreign names. Some of them, names I'd never heard before. I knew that there were others spinning with me, but we could not communicate; we were both blind and mute. The few times I tried to speak, I found that my tongue seemed stiff in my mouth. I wondered who it was that was whispering names; it wasn't us. The abyss seemed to grow colder still, and I sensed that more had died-- more spirits had become trapped with me, and I could not even see them; I could merely feel them-- I sensed their fright mingled with mine.

Time passed-- much time passed, actually, but there was no way to measure it. However, I knew that I had been spinning for many hours-- days, probably, and it caused me to panic, _Will it ever end? _I asked myself as I continued to shiver, _Is this everlasting? Why won't the abyss end?_

_And what about my parents...? _I suddenly asked myself, as the frightening voices continued to whisper my name from all around me. I looked around wildly to spot the source of the whispers, as I had many times before, but there was nothing to be seen but the darkness and the nothingness that filled the abyss. _What if this is hell? _I suddenly wondered after much time passed without change in the atmosphere of the place,_ What if this is nothing but a slow descent into the world of fire and brimstone? _For I had realized that I was spinning downwards; another frightening thought entered my mind: _Will I find Jacqueline at the bottom of it all?_

An eternity stuck with Jacqueline-- now that _would _be hell-- or could one call the abyss hell? Because there was no way it could be considered a heaven-- although religious dogma could be _vastly _false; after all, hadn't they stated that when you die, you know pretty soon after whether you're going to heaven or hell? I wanted to vent out my angers and frustrations by screaming, but I knew that that was impossible, as I could not unglue my tongue from the bottom of my mouth.

And then, for no apparent reason whatsoever, my thoughts returned to him-- the boy who had sent me to this place by murdering me; _Travis… _why the hell had he done it? Why had he so maliciously drowned me in that tub full of fragrant water-- and why had he killed Carla as well-- a girl who had been blinded with love for him. Nothing added up. Could he have honestly killed Carla and me for our hatred towards him from school? No, that just didn't make sense. If that had been the reason, why would he have waited so long to kill Carla-- and why had he chosen the day I returned to my hometown to do the deed-- had he been waiting for it? No. He couldn't have. Everyone-- Carla included, had believed me to be dead, and Travis was _not _a seer or a gypsy. But, all the same, his tongue-- the forked tongue. It could only mean that he was a shas--

**_NO-- _**that couldn't be it. The very thought of it was insane-- but on the other hand, it was the only thing that made sense…

My thoughts returned to my now very deceased best friend: Carla-- why had he done this to her…? She hadn't done anything to him other than love him with all of her heart for months on end. Suddenly, something-- a spirit-- passed directly through me, and I felt the frightening sensation of wanting to scream, though lacking the ability, once again.

After my momentary state of panic ceased, my mind returned to the events that had led up to my death… It was crazy-- **_CRAZY! _**Everything that had happened to me during the past couple of days was simply insane; what with the dream and the murders-- and Carla's death was all my fault. I knew it. If I hadn't been seduced into the warm waters, she would still be alive-- hell, _I _would still be alive, and I could have easily stopped Travis from committing the crimes, had I not been so fucking vulnerable… But, still, there still was that slight off-chance that everything could just be a dream-- a very bad dream. I played with the idea-- for all I knew; I would wake up in an alleyway, or in a cot in a homeless shelter, and thank my lucky stars for it. But, like it had for the past five years, my common sense kicked in, and I realized that _nothing _would end happily for me-- never again.

I was dead now. There were no second chances.

I had thought my life to have been so complicated, but this-- _this _put everything into perspective. Death made every other thing pale in comparison. The first twenty years of my life had been utterly meaningless; nothing but a title page in The Great Book of Life.

For The Great Book of Death was just beginning for me now-- so, in a way, life would be never ending, for death was everlasting-- but then again, could one call death living?

It was no use. I needed to clear my head-- my thoughts were confusing the hell out of me, and were getting me nowhere. I just needed out of this abyss… the oasis of dreams. The strange combination of heaven and hell-- this _purgatory._

In the strange abyss, time was meaningless, and even if I _had _a watch, it wouldn't have mattered in the least.

The small stone that hung around my neck burned white hot-- I realized that I had never taken it off, and I felt a slight gasp escape from me at its heat-- never had I known such extreme feelings of loss and terror. Everything was changing too quickly, and I knew that I could not deal with an everlasting afterlife-- I hadn't even been ready to die.

Suddenly, something totally unpredictable occurred; the dark world was suddenly thrown into light as if someone had simply flicked on a switch. It was blinding white light, and I did not know what was going on; my eyes widened as if I were a deer in front of headlights, and the warm, white light enveloped me, and then began to burn me-- _everywhere; _I screamed in pain, and then passed out.


	6. The Nameless Desert

_Chapter 6: The Nameless Desert_

Minor dreams came and left, though none left a mark on my mind upon my waking-- how I hated unconsciousness; it seemed that although I had experienced it about a million times in the past several years, each time it came to me, it was a surprising and unwanted shock.

When I at last woke up the following morning, I felt both confused and nauseous-- quite a displeasing combination of feelings if you've never experience it. I felt completely worn out; as if someone had wrung me out like a dry sponge. I rolled over onto my back, as I had slept on my stomach, and blinked white spots out from in front of my eyes; all the while groggily wondering where I was-- remembering from the moment my eyes fluttered open that I was dead, but momentarily forgetting that I did not have a clue to where I was; morning thoughts. It was strange, for even though I was dead, I felt strangely alive. It was almost as if I had simply awoken, and the previous day's occurrences were nonexistent-- not even a dream. After all, this had happened to me upon numerous occasions in the years before. I was used to strange occurrences like this-- but out of all of them, this had to be the strangest. I closed my eyes once again, as my morning thoughts became more focused and clear, just as something round and quite heavy hit me on the back of the head.

My eyes snapped open upon impact, "Ow," I murmured, picking up the object, and looking into its dark, blood-red flesh; it was an apple. I looked above my head, and found myself staring into a leafy-green canopy of leaves dotted with small orbs of red. I had slept the night beneath a gigantic apple tree. I stretched long and hard, wondering if this place could possibly be heaven. I frowned, remembering that blinding white light which had knocked me unconscious hours before. As a bruise steadily formed on the back of my head from the apple, I looked around me; slowly realizing that I was actually surrounded by a cluster of large apple trees. Everything here was way too surreal; I could not believe any of it-- I gasped, for encircling the small cluster of apple trees were bushes-- and not just any bushes. The bushes were also dotted with small orbs of red, but when my eyes focused more intently, I realized that these orbs were delicate and eerily beautiful; roses. The combination of the fruits and flowers made me feel extremely uneasy; I could not stay here a moment longer if I could help it. It made me sick to my stomach-- and I hadn't eaten a thing since that popcorn-- did the deceased actually maintain such living happenings like hunger and thirst? I glanced around the strange garden to find that several of the ripe apples had fallen from their branches; dotting the beautiful too-green grass with red as well.

I looked down at my body, surprisingly finding that I was no longer naked-- a minute relief. I was now wearing my old street clothes, although the minor rips/tears had been magically sewn up, and they looked pretty damn good, _Maybe this means that Elaine has been watching over me,_ I thought, standing up, and tearing a small piece of cloth from off of the shirt I was wearing. I gathered about twenty of the apples that lay scattered on the ground, and hastily placed them into the cloth which I then tied into a knapsack, knowing that whatever I did-- and wherever I went, I simply could not stay in this place. I just couldn't; I walked over to the nearest rosebush, and jumped over it with ease.

To my surprise, my bare feet landed directly in burning-hot sand. I let out a scream of bewildered anger and annoyance as I realized what kind of setting I had found myself in.

The strange garden was in the middle of a vast desert-- it had been an _oasis._ And that could only mean that there was nothing else around for miles on end in any direction from it.

I shuddered, vividly remembering the place that had twice driven me insane back in D'Nalge; and here was another. Just like it, and yet so vastly different. This was frightening. Absolutely frightening. I frowned; this place could not be heaven-- nor could it be hell, although it was extremely hot, for a strange white sun hung in the sky, and yet…

If this was some form of an afterlife, where were all the things that all those priests and the Pope had promised? None of it made sense-- could any of it make sense? I was unsure… The godforsaken desert I now found myself trapped within held much mystery, and was full to the brim with the unknown.

And in my afterlife-- if this was it, I was all alone. That was the most frightening notion of the entire situation; my parents and my friends were nowhere to be found-- there was no one here to help me, and though I had felt alone for so very long, the deprivation of any human company was quite an alarming thought. Once again, I would be forced to fend for myself in a strange new world-- alone.

I cried out in pain at the burning sand, and then began to walk through the desert for hours until the burning white sun had at last sunk beneath the sky, and the sand cooled. When this had finally happened, I lie down, and fell asleep in less than an instant.  
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My eyes snap open, and I find that I am no longer trapped within the nameless desert. After a few moments of looking around the large room in which I now find myself instead (all the while praising God), I realize where I am. This is no reality; it is the evening of Travis's double murder of both Carla and me. My eyes still adjusting to the semi-darkness of the room (for the glow of the television provides some light), I realize that I am standing in front of the refrigerator of the kitchen, and I look outwards into the living room-- I spot myself easily. There I am, I realize, with a shudder. The second Beatrice is lying on her stomach on the couch, tossing and turning; I realize here that I did not sleep as peacefully as I had believed. Carla is screaming from upstairs, but the second Beatrice cannot hear her, as she is trying to blot out all sound-- or perhaps, subconsciously, she is trying to hear her friend. My stomach sinks. It's almost as if she had been put under a spell to prevent Carla's rescue. Carla is screaming my name from upstairs, but Beatrice cannot hear her, as her waking is unsuccessful. Carla's screams of protest and fright are thereafter cut off. She is dead._

_Why have I been brought here? I wonder, "Wake up, Beatrice!" I scream, in a final desperate attempt to save Carla. She can't hear you, a cruel voice suddenly whispers in my head, and I nod with sudden understanding. _

_I hold my breath, waiting for the sound; the bath is soon turned on upstairs, and then it comes…_

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Drip… Drip… Drip…

_I watch myself with wide eyes as I get up from the couch some minutes later._

"STOP, BEATRICE!"_ I scream, but it is too late. She-- the other me begins walking up the stairs to investigate the noise. _

_"It's useless trying to change the past," I hear a voice whisper behind me, all-knowingly._

_"Who's there?" I call out into the darkness; failing to place the voice, although it is almost familiar._

_I turn around, and my stomach drops as she speaks again; "You betrayed me..." Carla whispers, her voice dry, as if someone had stuffed hundreds of crackling leaves down her throat._

_"No!" I insist, backing away from her, "No!" I repeat, feeling my shirt sticking to my sweating back._

_"You've let their kind take away everyone and everything you ever cared about," she tells me, bloody tears falling from her grotesque dead eyes, "You need to stop them, Beatrice. Don't you get it? You're the last ha--" _

_"What do you mean?" I scream, as she comes nearer and nearer with each step, "I don't understand! Why have you brought me here?"_

_"You can't let yourself become weak, Beatrice… You can't harp on what happened here tonight. That's one of the reasons I brought you here. You need to let go of it. You can't do this to yourself. Promise me that, Beatrice… Promise!" I obliged by nodding, "It's what they want, Beatrice, and if you don't return to--"_

_Suddenly, the room disappears, and I am trapped within total darkness, alone. Carla is gone, "What's happening. Where's--"  
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"CARLA?"_** I finished the sentence, waking, and drenched in my own sweat. Screaming my dear friend's name-- hoping that I would find her there, alive and well; all the while knowing that I would not. The dream had been rather troubling and strange-- it was almost as if someone had interfered near the end to make sure Carla could not tell me anything else. Her words repeated in my brain: 'Beatrice, if you don't return to--' Where? What had she been trying to tell me? Less than ten fucking syllables and they were driving me crazy. I would keep my promise however: I would cease dwelling on Carla's death-- the moment I saw the life flee from Travis's eyes-- the moment I, but my heart sank as I remembered. I could not kill Travis. It was impossible now: _She's dead, and you're dead, _a bitter voice whispered in the back of my mind, _And she's right; there's nothing you can do to change the past._ I felt my eyes growing hot with all the pain of the truth, and I cried.  
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_ At the crack of dawn, I resumed my searching for something-- _anything_ that would provide safety and comfort within the nameless desert.

My feet had already become red and blistered; the sand burned me more and more with each step. I was constantly sweating, and the glare of the sun was beginning to make me blind... I could not go on any longer. The searching was enough to drive me crazy, and I wanted to find something. I wanted to find something in the desert that I could hold onto-- something that would finally give me peace. My stomach growled and ached, but there was hardly anything to eat. Only apples, and nutrient-wise, I knew I was fucked.

I wanted to find a source of water for myself, as I was nearly out of apples, and there were no plants whatsoever for millions of miles around-- not even cacti, which goes to show you what a hellhole the desert was; my stomach was empty, while my throat was cracked and dry with thirst. I knew that I could not go on for more than three days without liquid-- and two had already passed.

It was absolutely frightening. I needed refuge from the desert-- I almost wished that I could return to the oasis where I had awoken days ago, but the desert was endless. I had lost my way; I did not know left from right-- north from south. And if I did not find something in the desert to save me, I would surely perish-- although I was already dead.


	7. Witness to a Murder

_Chapter 7: Witness to a Murder_

My teeth eagerly sunk into the sweet flesh of an apple-- the _last _apple that I had in my knapsack. I had had to restrain myself from tasting its cool sweetness for the last three hours in the cool relief of moonlight-- I had wanted to stop myself, but near starvation and my own instincts had forced me to eat it at last. I had not had anything to eat all day, and it had looked so delicious, glowing in the moonlight, and more importantly, it had _tasted _delicious. It tasted like a dream, but I still felt guilty for having eaten it, and not exerting some more self-control. I frowned; there had been millions of apples just lying on the ground in the oasis; perhaps I should have taken more. But the apple was delicious, and the evening was strange and beautiful. I knew deep down in my heart that the harsh rays of the sun would kill me off tomorrow, but by the glow of the four moons, I realized that I couldn't care less. Completely alone and frightened, I would die in the desert-- well, not completely alone, for there _were _four moons. I had noticed them the previous evening… One was similar to our moon on the earth, two were fiery red, while the fourth was by far the most beautiful; it was jade green, and it glowed with such a beautiful light, bathing the evening in calm and nothingness. I had to admit that it was a nice way to spend my final evening alive-- or whatever I was.

I swallowed the last chunk of the apple, and after having nibbled upon the pibs for a while, I discarded the core by throwing it behind my shoulder. I closed my eyes, and drifted off into sleep.

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_Without any warning, I find myself back in Carla's living-room; the night of Carla's murder, "Carla?" I call, but she is fast asleep on the floor beside the other Beatrice. She looks so peaceful-- not to sound cliché, or anything, but that's the only word to describe her… Little does she know that she has less than twenty minutes of life._

_A cough somewhere… I turn to see the window slide open; as if by magic, _I _did _lock the damn thing, _I think, frightened, as a pale hand pushes the window all the way up. I don't even need to question whether or not it's Travis. His face appears a few seconds later, and he is smiling a frightening smile of self-gain and loathing. He pulls himself up, and steps into the living-room; not bothering to shut the window again._

"_Carla," he whispers, a few moments later, now next to her._

_Her eyes snap open instantaneously, "Travis," she smiles, "I didn't think you'd be back tonight."_

"_I guess I just couldn't stay away too long," he replies, shrugging his shoulders._

_I scoff at his overly annoying explanation, and tiptoe closer to hear more, "How was your night?"_

_Carla shrugs her shoulders, "It was fine… She seems a bit-- I dunno. I think she's hiding something from me."_

_Travis rolls his eyes, "Girls."_

_She laughs, "Wanna head upstairs?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrow in a meaningful way that makes me cringe._

_She nods, and I begin to warn her against it, before remembering that I can't, "Just don't wake Beatrice."_

"_I won't," he replies, helping her up, and seeing her retreating back, he crouches low, and surreptitiously mutters a few words in a foreign tongue over my slumbering form._

_My eyes grow wide as I realize that I _had _been bewitched that night. I stare at Travis's back as he turns, and follows Carla. I don't want to follow them… I don't fell like witnessing one of their conjugal visits, but I however proceed up the stairs. _

_I follow them into the bedroom, and Travis closes the door, as Carla flops down upon the bed, "I'm glad you came back," she whispers, "So am I," he replies, joining her. My heart slows; how much longer does she have…? A minute? Five? He falls on top of her, and begins to kiss her. I feel queasy, but continue to watch, as they roll over, and Travis continues to kiss her, as he pulls out a sharp and gleaming dagger. "No!" I scream, as he plunges the blade of the knife into her back. Her eyes widen in surprise, as blood gushes out of the open wound, and he pulls the knife out._

"Y-you," _she sputters, standing, and rushing towards the door, _**"BEATRICE!" **_she screams, _**"HELP ME!" **

_He lunges forward, and pulls her backward by her own hair. She continues to shriek in surprise and fright, as he throws her on top of the bed again like he would a rag doll, _"She can't hear you," _he hisses._

"_Wh-why?" she continues, struggling for breath, as she dies._

_He raises the knife, and stabs her again; this time in the chest. Once, twice, three times. I watch in stunned silence as he continues to stab her-- even after the life has left her eyes for good, and her screams have ended._

_There's blood everywhere. On the bed, on his clothes-- some has even managed to stain the walls that piercing ugly color. Travis stands, and wipes the knife carelessly on his pants, before leaving the bedroom. I remain, and a few seconds later, I hear the familiar _Drip, Drip, Drip, _as blood falls from his clothes, and the tub begins to fill with water…_

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My eyes snapped open, and I found the strong scent of blood still deep within my nostrils. I was a witness to a murder, and there wasn't anything I could do. Tears stung my eyes, and I wanted to scream at Travis's face still etched into my memory. I got up for the day, still shaken; it wasn't very hot. Gray clouds were blocking out the sun, and it made me wonder if a storm was approaching.

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I walked on…

The rumbling of thunder reinforced my beliefs of a coming storm. However, I was weak, and nearly passing out from lack of food and water. After having carried on in such a manner for going on two hours, I at last saw that there was a small structure in the distance, and as I came nearer, I realized what it was; a cave.

I ran towards it, hoping that it wasn't a mirage, and then ventured inside. I found it to be dark and cool, and I could hear the sound of running water; I smiled, realizing that a second death was not as likely as I had previously believed.

I walked towards the sound of the water, and when I at last found it, drank for a good ten minutes before lying down on my back, and taking a nap in the cool shade…


	8. Story Unfolding

_Chapter 8: Story Unfolding_

I awoke some time later, feeling alive and fresh; the pending death gone forever, I found that the water-source was full of fish, and although I had never much cared for the taste of seafood, I had to eat. And rather having died than tasted sushi, I was able to build a fire outside by using a small piece of glass, the rays of the sun, and a small pile of withered leaves. Though lacking spices, the fish cooked up quite tasty.

The berries which grew upon the bushes inside the cave were dark purple-- and unlike those of D'Nalge were sweet and wonderful. After having my fill of berries and fish, I'd settle down each night and sleep a pleasant sleep, without nightmares, although some of my waking hours were full of agonizing thoughts involving my survivor's guilt.

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Staring out at the desert in front of me, I felt a great emptiness welling up inside of me. Days had passed, and nothing. There had been no visitors, no dreams, and nothing but my loneliness, anger, and resentment to keep me company.

I longed for things to change…

Turning my back on the jade-green moon, and its sisters, I sauntered back into the cave, and lay down beside the stream, or whatever it was. The gentle trickling of water was gentle-- comforting, even. I smiled to myself, and fell asleep.

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_She enters the cave as if she owns the place; without warning or explanation. Instantly, I feel my lips contort into a smile, as she does so as well... after all, it _has _been quite a while since I last saw her; she even smells just like how I remembered. My smile, however, falters, when I realize that she does not appear to be very pleased with me. My stomach knots up._

"_Just accept the truth," she whispers; her timid voice showing her true anger._

"_I cannot," I whisper, my fear now growing, "Too many have d--"_

"_It does not matter how many have been slain," she says, her voice becoming louder with each syllable, "Many more are _sure _to perish if you do not soon realize that you have a _huge _part to play in all of this."_

"_But I am barely an adult," I continue to insist, as her gray eyes focus even more intently upon me, "It's only just ended. How can it all be starting again?"_

"_The prophecy..." she whispers, "The prophecy..."_

_And then, the woman vanishes, and my sleep once again becomes empty; without troublesome dreams._

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I woke the following morning to find that the cave smelled differently than it had the previous day. A certain something lingered about the place; I could not place the strange fragrance, but I realized that I had had a midnight visitor-- but such a thing was impossible, wasn't it? Anyone surely could have woken me up-- but nonetheless, it smelled of peppermints, expensive perfume, and a hint of mothballs. I breathed it in deeply, and suddenly recognized the odd fragrance, but it couldn't be… could it?

How could my fairy godmother have possibly visited me here?

It was just so strange. How could it be true? None of my other dreams or nightmares had ever been fully true; back in D'Nalge, my stepmother had sent them to me constantly, all the while trying to frighten me-- and more so, the desperate attempt to lure me into the dark woods.

I fell to my knees in front of the small stream of running water, and cupped my hands into it; brought some into my mouth; the cool liquid instantly soothed my cracked throat.

But the smell of my dear dead friend remained in the cave, causing me to wonder if there was the possibility that others would visit me here in my misery-- maybe, maybe not. It all depended on whether or not Elaine's visit had been dream or reality.

I paused in bringing the cleansing water to my face. There was something strange about the water as well-- it didn't taste right anymore; no longer did it taste cool and crisp… it now tasted rather biter and stale, as if it had somehow been tampered with. I felt the sickening flavor of vomit in the back of my throat, inching closer, and with nary a thought, immediately ran out into the desert to be sick.

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I had never been-- and would never be so fucking sick. I had read about such bad cases of food poisoning that the victim would become almost delirious with sickness-- however, I had never believed that something like that could happen to _anyone, _let alone me.

I was hot too-- burning hot; my forehead felt as if someone was slamming a mallet against it, and I was perspiring like mad. I fell onto my back-- I had thought that I had known pain, but nothing could be worse than this; perishing from starvation and dehydration in the desert would have been a better fate than the one before me. I had believed that I was safe from danger once I'd entered the cave, and it struck me as funny how danger could lurk around every corner; how was I to know what sort of filth and bacteria were awaiting me once I'd tasted the water?

I had never known such pain. My stomach was constantly churning up more and more vomit, and it seemed as if it would never stop. My fever worsened with each passing hour, and I began to endure hallucinations in which faraway figures echoed my name. How could all of this madness have evolved from tainted water…? It was simply mind-boggling to me.

Sleep was a faraway impossibility; the one time I _had _managed to sleep, I awoke covered in my own vomit-- not a pleasant experience.

It had been about a day and a half since I had had anything to eat or drink, so I was crazy with both thirst and hunger, but I could not drink from the stream again; even if my life depended on it. I simply could not risk becoming any sicker than I already was, after all.

More vomit was coming up again. My throat was burning from the acidity; I did not want to venture going out into the desert again, so without thinking, I swallowed hard, and felt the sickening gunk return to my stomach; I breathed in a deep sigh of relief. I _had _to be getting a bit better now; I had finally been able to keep it down.

I pressed my hand against the freezing cold surface of the cave wall, and felt my fever instantly begin to lessen. I really _was _beginning to feel better; I grinned, feebly. Maybe when the next day dawned, I would be able to stomach something to eat; and better yet, after, maybe I could leave the cave for good. As it was a running stream, and I had not seen the other end at the entrance to the cave, it _had _to lead somewhere. I smiled at the very thought, and was able to sit up again.

I stared long and hard at the gray stone that made up the wall; there was something there. Etched into the ancient stone were strange carvings-- carvings that depicted an era long passed; an ancient civilization. I wondered why I hadn't noticed them before. I pulled my face away to get a better look, _That's strange, _I thought to myself, as I looked deeply into the carvings… I looked towards the top of the picture, and found words-- a single statement, and although I could no find what it meant, as it was written in some foreign language, as I focused more intently upon it, the words seemed to make more sense, and I found that they read: _THE ONE THAT FELL. _

_The one that fell, _I repeated in the back of my mind, _Why does it sound so very familiar...?_

"The story will teach you," a voice whispered from far above me; I stood up, determined to find who the disembodied voice was-- I could not place the voice. I screamed in annoyance.

"Who's there?" I called out, frightened.

"In time, all will reveal itself," the voice whispered, and suddenly the cave was filled with many panicked screams-- _my _screams; something was happening-- I was somehow fading away, and then I was suddenly on my way to another world...


	9. The Land with Two Moons

_Chapter 9: The Land with Two Moons_

When I at last stopped moving, I opened my eyes once again; nearly certain that all the danger had passed. I was somewhere else again, and my legs were trembling from all of the fear I had endured in such a small amount of time, _Wherever I am, this place cannot be earth, _I suddenly realized, _Where am I stranded now-- and why…?_

"Is anybody here?" I called out, beginning to walk through the empty streets of the village-- for I had realized that it was a village; _Where are they? _I wondered, "Is anybody here?" I repeated, looking at one of the many huts that littered the street like marbles in a pocket. It was pitch black, and if any of the hurts _were _teeming with live creatures, it was easy to see that no one was awake at this time. I frowned, wondering who had sent me here-- the voice had not sounded like Elaine's.

I looked up towards the sky, and made the final realization that I was no longer where I had been only thirty seconds before; two small moons were up in the sky, and unlike the beautiful, spherical objects that had been the moons in the desert-place, these were oddly shape and formed-- almost like meteors in appearance; they looked so very familiar, but I simply could not place them.

And then for some reason, I began to shiver; it's not even that I was _cold, _per say, it's just some _feeling _that I possessed in my very soul, and it simply frightened me. _I'm here for a reason-- _I suddenly realized; whoever it was who sent me here had done so for a reason-- but what was it? What could it possibly be? The village was dead.

_Dead-- _I stared at the riverbeds that surrounded the place; they were nearly overflowing with crystal-clear water. I looked up towards the sky, and allowed myself a smile... _It is very beautiful here..._


	10. The One that Fell

_Chapter 10: The One that Fell_

I slept a short sleep beneath a small tree that was growing at an odd angle in the center of someone's front yard that night, dreaming a nonsensical dream in which someone was calling my name for help… When I woke, I barely remembered the dream; the shock of being awoken by the entire village seemed to drive the memories of it away. The hustle and bustle of passerby at first greatly annoyed me, but as their waking me would provide answers, my feelings of anger and resentment soon dissipated-- now someone somewhere would be able to give me the details on where I was. I stood, and after a few minutes of staring at screaming children, limping elderly people, and giggling teenagers in awe, I finally chose one of the less intimidating-looking ones, and approached her, "Excuse me, Miss," I began, trying to sound polite, "but could you please tell me where I am?" but to my great surprise, she ignored me, and continued her steady pace southbound without having even acknowledged me-- she was obviously a stuck-up widow or something the likes of. I rolled my eyes-- _What a bitch, _I thought to myself, turning around to ask another woman where I was; she looked to be around my age, and appeared less prissy than the other, "Excuse me, but…" I drifted off; she ignored me as well, and I became even more annoyed-- was everyone in this village stuck-up and haughty? Why couldn't they simply answer me-- even a definite "no" would be better than silence!

They had ears, didn't they?

Couldn't they pause for ten seconds to give me the information I sought? It wasn't brain-surgery; a simple answer-- two, maybe three syllables.

Well, there was no time to stand around harping on my anger, so I chose to walk on instead; trying to get a good look at them-- the stuck up snobs that they were. The women were eerily beautiful; tall, with perfect creamy-white complexions that seemed to glow; perfect hair, and gowns flowing long and white, while the men seemed simply frightening; taller than human-beings, broad-shouldered, they carried long knives, and a few seemed red with blood-- I could not say that they were handsome, for they also carried a certain air of hostility to anyone who chose to block their path-- even for a mere second. I chose to stay as far away as possible from them. I was utterly exhausted after a few minutes of following them; in order to keep up, I was forced to jog every few seconds, and it left me nearly out of breath. As I continued to follow them, I found that they looked very similar to each-other, and all had heads slightly larger than those which normal human beings possess-- their heads were elongated, so they obviously had larger-than-normal brains-- perhaps this was a missing link from the evolutionary chain-- glimpses into the future of what human beings would eventually look like; perhaps this _was _a day in the very distant future on earth… I could not be sure. _But, _are _they human…? _I wondered, as I stared at the hundreds of people walking around the streets; other than the few gossiping and giggling teenagers, they all seemed so preoccupied-- frightened, even… Scared of some sort of fore coming doom; _An apocalypse, _I realized; they continued to remain unaffected over my presence. So, I then decided to join a large group, and just listen in on their conversations… I walked beside them, "They say that they are approaching," one was whispering hurriedly to another; her voice was more than slightly panicky.

"But many have said that they are already among us," a small girl in a pale pink get-up retorted, frightened, while the others stared at her skeptically, "That's just silly, dear," another said, although her voice didn't sound as if she believed this-- the others were clearly thinking the exact opposite of her words. My heart began to race, "Excuse me?" I asked, as the group quickened their pace, "Nothing is the same now," one said in a tearful whisper, "They found Xarabell's body in a ravine just yesterday," the others clucked their tongues in sympathy, "And her mother…?" another began, "Nearly went mad-- she tried to kill herself… Would've been successful too if that meddling husband of her hadn't intervened."

"Meddling?" another asked, worry in her tone, "She would've been dead had he not stopped her!"

"Would you want to live if your little girl was dead…? I know I wouldn't," the others nodded their heads in fear, "How old was the little thing?" someone asked.

"Twelve, I believe," she paused; contemplating what the girl had told them earlier, "If only they had never come here," she whispered, her voice trembling with worry.

"So, you believe that they have been among us from the beginning, Zycronea…? That's not like you."

"I don't think any of us knows what to believe anymore, Prosenthia… The girl wasn't the first to die… There have been others; it seems as if--"

"Please, stop!" a tearful woman suddenly interjected, "We won't be doing ourselves any good if we drive ourselves mad--"

There were whispered agreements between them; _Where are we going? _I suddenly wondered, now finding it useless to ask them out loud, _Maybe I'm not meant to be seen here, _I thought, as their pace at last slowed. I stared at the group and gasped. The small girl had begun to scream. Everyone's attention was suddenly upon her-- even the men that I had done my best to avoid all the while were staring with wide frightened eyes, "What's the matter?" someone asked; clearly a mother figure, as the girl pointed up towards the sky, and then as her lips opened to form an answer, she collapsed onto the soft ground without any warning.

I froze directly in my tracks; frightened for the fate of the little girl who had fallen, but nonetheless, I could not direct my attention towards her. My heartbeat quickening, I followed the others' intent gaze towards the sky, and watched out of the corner of my eyes as the girl was picked up from the ground, and a woman-- perhaps her mother, began to run away with her, "Take the young!" someone was screaming, and my heart continued to race as I realized that something terrible was about to happen. The skies had quickly darkened, and the sun was rapidly being blocked out by clouds-- all around me, madness ensued as men, women and children ran around aimlessly, frightened and confused by what was going on. Some, however, stopped dead in their tracks-- even the mother and daughter, _What's happening? _I wondered, and then it began.

A single flash of light-- an approaching storm, obviously-- but I had never seen storm clouds so dark-- so unreal.

"Hurry!" a male voice called out, miraculously being heard over all of the panic, "They're coming. They're coming!"

More screams were heard, and then the panicked people of the village began to run in all directions; those who had stood frozen in their tracks only seconds before were now behaving as if their feet had caught on fire-- babies were screaming in their mother's eyes, and older children were lost in the crowd, screaming for their parents to save them. Names of loved ones were called, but it was all for nothing, "Oh my God," I whispered, realizing what was happening; some were rising from the waters of the rivers, dripping, while others seemed to fall from out of the sky; they were all in their true forms-- there was no need to disguise themselves any longer. I felt my gut tightening as the leader of the group looked upon the panicked people of the village coldly-- almost hungrily, "A feast," it whispered, sending chills up my spine.

There was a second wild flash of light; the small child and her mother-- the girl who had spoken with such intelligence and understanding-- I felt tears in my eyes, though I had never personally known her. They were both now dead-- killed by one of the many shaskas, who knew not to feel any remorse for their vicious crimes.

People were dying all around me, and yet there was absolutely nothing I could do about it; the blood of all the men, women and children soon flowed throughout the streets-- flooding the rivers-- turning them a darker and darker shade of red with each passing second I stood there, looking on. The survivors continued to scream in agony as more shaskas magically appeared; some from the skies, some from the bloody rivers, while others still, simply emerging from the cottages, and joining their companions.

_They were among them from the beginning, _I realized, as I fell to the floor in fright at the heaps of fresh corpses that were quickly piling up-- blocking the screaming inhabitants of the village, as they continued their attempts to escape. A stench of death hung in the air, and I gagged, _They're all dying-- how can this be happening...?_

The most horrifying aspect of the slaughtering of the villagers was that they were all being obliterated from the face of this world so quickly-- the shaskas worked quickly… They spared no one. I stood, my stomach heaved violently, and I vomited. I screamed in horror at the sights of a world ending-- all the while wondering if this would be a repeat when the next world ended-- also wondering which one it would be.

The stone around my neck began to burn me again. I wanted to leave, but all the while, I knew I couldn't-- I knew I must stay, and see the end-- whoever had sent me here wanted that.

More screams of terror. More deaths. Before I knew it, only the shaskas remained; their hands red with blood, and their masks of false beauty returned. They smiled, content with their handiwork. The leader who had declared their rampage "a feast" raised a single hand, and the bodies of the dead faded away to nothingness; _It is as if they never existed, _I realized, _There is nothing left behind-- not even a clue, _"Quenilecauj," one addressed the leader, "We must be gone before the _others _arrive," she slowly nodded her beautiful head, and her long amber curls bounced gently, "I am nearly finished, Zsheeka," she smiled wickedly, and waved her hands once again; the waters of the rivers boiled for a few seconds, and then the steam rose in torrents above us, and into the air The small huts shrunk away into the ground, and I knew that even if a search was done, they would never be found; _It is as if they never existed, _I thought to myself for a second time, as the shaskas too disappeared-- their laughter, however, continued to ring in my ears, as I stood there, minutes later, reliving the horrors of what I had just seen… How long had it been? Ten minutes? Twenty? A whole civilization had been wiped out in less than an hour, and no one would ever know.

With them, the clouds were gone as well, and the skies were cleared; leaving the once thriving world dry and barren.

The blood, however, remained.

It pooled at my feet, staining the ground red; the sole reminder of what had transpired here; minutes later, it disappeared as well, but its reddish tint remained everywhere around me. Dust blew around me, and I cried biter tears, now knowing where I was.

I stood there a few seconds longer, watching in awe as men and women materialized out of thin air. They were crying as well; I was unsure who or what they were, but I knew they were not shaskas.

"_Our work is finished here..." _a voice whispered in my head. I nodded, wiping the warm tears away, "Take me back," I whispered.

And before I have even had the chance to finish my request, the dead world has faded away into darkness, and I am zooming back through everything-- back to my cave in the desert...

And all the way back, I continued to cry.


	11. Suspicions Confirmed

_Chapter 11: Suspicions Confirmed_

"Those people," I whispered to the darkness, still sobbing, as the cave slowly came back into focus before my puffy eyes, "All those people," I whispered, "How could they all have been-- obliterated like that so easily?" I paused, but no answer came, "Please tell me," I whispered; urging her-- unsure whether or not the unseen presence in the cave was Elaine.

She came nearer towards me, and I felt her cool breath on my damp cheeks although I still was unable to look upon her face, "The shaska see neither mercy nor number, Beatrice. And you've seen this firsthand," the voice answered from within the darkness. I paused, contemplating her meaningful words.

"It's not right though," I whispered, wiping tears away from my eyes as they continued to cascade downwards, "It's not right what was allowed to happen to them-- couldn't someone have intervened?" I paused, realizing that the answer was most likely a definite "no." I sighed, wearily, "Those children," I tried to shut out the images of the little ones as they ran around wildly; scared out of their wits-- children who had had their whole lives in front of them-- lives which had been cut short just like that.

"I know, Beatrice. I know," she replied, "but it could not be prevented-- as I'm sure you've come to realize."

"How many other worlds have suffered this fate?" I asked, after a momentary pause.

"Many, Beatrice… But what truly matters is that you now attempt to save the next. You-- _we _cannot let this happen again."

I now recognized Elaine's voice, "But what can I do fairy godmother?" I asked, "I'm nothing-- now, at least. Nothing."

"Do you honestly believe that deep down?" she asked; her voice trembling with mounting anxiety.

"Yes. They've taken everything from me, Elaine. I just can't stand it anymore," tears were falling more freely now, "My family, my friends… All lost to those creatures. I don't want them to be martyrs. I just want everything back to the way it was before."

"But it can't. You cannot change the past, Beatrice. It is virtually impossible-- not even I have the powers to do so. But, you _can _change the future."

The words that had been spoken the following year now echoed in the back of my mind quite loudly; as I relived hearing the words for the first time, my heart sank deeply into my stomach, "The prophecy?" I whispered, "The prophecy is _nothing _compared to this-- what they did then… What we're doing now. Words spoken by some lunatic thousands of years ago aren't relevant to me anymore."

"But the prophecy is everything," Elaine snapped, "The earth, D'Nalge… Life as we know it is in mortal danger, but the prophecy whispers that there is still a way to reverse it-- and you, of course, are the way."

"That world," I whispered, standing up from the corner where I had been sitting for the last five minutes, trembling as I did so, "I mean the one that was destroyed. Was it--?" I did not finish my question; it was ridiculous, after all. The moons did not necessarily have to confirm my first naïve beliefs.

She laughed, soothingly and gently; the notion that anyone could laugh after speaking of the horrors that had taken place filled me with both awe and discontent, "You know the answer though, don't you?" she whispered, after a moment of silence, "You've known it all along, haven't you?" Coming from her, the question sounded more like a statement-- a demand, almost.

"I thought-- but, no, that's insane. There could _never _have been advanced life-forms on such a planet; if science has proved--"

The tone of her voice suddenly became angry, "Would _science _explain everything that has happened to you thus far, Beatrice. The answer is no. Science is only a manmade tool to disprove what _should _be accounted for as the truth-- surely you know that much by now."

"_Mars," _I whispered, still not fully believing it, "that place was Mars, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

I stared into the darkness; the person who had actually sent me there-- for I knew it had not been Elaine who had shown me the destruction of Mars, had sent me there for a reason; to show me what would become of the earth if I didn't stand up, and do my best to prevent it… But why-- _how _could something so dreadful have ever taken place? How could the shaska have the ability to just hush everything away-- covering up their crimes, and just leaving as if nothing had happened at all? Though everyone I loved was gone, I simply could _not _allow something like this to happen to the millions and millions of people who inhabited the earth-- nor on any other world, for that matter, "How long do I have?" I whispered, wiping away the final tears still making their way down my cheeks, and staring into the direction where Elaine's voice was coming from.

"You now understand the full extent of all of this, don't you, Beatrice?" she asked.

I nodded, unsure if she could see actually see the curt gesture through the darkness-- she was yet to answer my question, so I prompted it again, "How long do you think I have to stop them?"

"I am unsure of that, Beatrice. It all depends on you. Some would say hours. Others, days. Others, weeks. Months-- years-- decades-- there has not been a mass killing in nearly four thousand years, but time is irrelevant to the shaska. If you can defeat them, you will also prevent the deaths of the other worlds."

There was a silence between the two of us as I processed this development, "This isn't right, Elaine!" I suddenly screamed, angrily standing up again, "All of this uncertainty… None of this is right! And why me? Why was this prophecy made to concern me-- and me alone?"

"At this present time, that, my child, is neither here nor there. When you are older-- more _mature, _then I am confident that you will be ready to know the answer. Hurry along. There is little time for you to remain here."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, seething, _"'Mature?'" _I mimicked, "There's no time for me to mature now, Elaine-- Travis drowned me just recently, if you've forgotten. I'm nothing now… _Nothing. _I caused Carla's death, and I'm sick of this guilt, this resentment, and this _fucking _self-hatred!"

"But are we ever truly dead or alive?"

My anger exploded and then subsided just as quickly, "Must you be so ambiguous now, fairy godmother?" I asked, wringing my hands in frustration, "Why must everything you tell me be filled to the brim with convolution?"

She laughed, "Beatrice, when you are older-- for you will grow, you will know," she paused, as if listening for something that only she could hear, "However, if you wish to survive those innumerable battles that lie ahead, you must compose yourself, and leave this place-- _now."_

"_Leave?" _I repeated, skeptically, nearly sure that I had misunderstood her, "But how _can _I leave? I'm not even sure how it was that I came to be here in the first place."

"There are ways," she whispered, "there always are. But before you set upon your journey once again, know that everything you see is important-- even the smallest detail," she paused, "and also remember that the shaska-- all of them know who you are, and what it is that you're trying to do. They are watching us even now, I fear. They will try dearly to stop you from leaving this desert place. And also know that your journey will be fraught with much peril-- and familiar faces; some of them not that savory. Also remember to remain strong if you wish to survive the next hurtles. Do you promise me that you will remain strong?"

I did not answer her.

"Do you promise?" she asked; her voice demanding.

I was not sure of it, but I nodded my head anyway, "Hurry," she whispered.

An invisible force-- Elaine began to push me outwards, "Wait," I began, against her strength, "You mean-- you're not going with me?"

"Heavens no!" she replied, skeptical at the thought, "I cannot remain with you-- a mere ghost for the duration; even the strongest magic will not allow for it, but don't worry-- it is-- better this way, I believe. Discoveries are best made alone, after all."

My face fell.

"Things have been pre-arranged by…" she drifted off.

"Who?" I whispered, eagerly, as she chose the best way to finish the sentence.

"…someone of great importance. I won't see you for a while, but when I've gained enough energy again, I'll do my best…"

"But--"

"Hurry," she urged, "they are sending a storm to stop you," she paused, _"Do not be afraid," _she warned for what seemed the millionth time.

"Goodbye then," I murmured, wearily, and slowly eased my way out of the cave, and into the desert; the sun was still shining harshly above in the sky, and all around me, the hot sands of the desert were fiercely dancing in the air; _A sand storm, _I realized, trying to keep the stinging fragments out of my eyes, by closing them, but the sand was not my only problem, for the wind was trying its best to stop me as well; my hair was blown wildly about, and I was forced to clumsily stumble out of the cave's entrance; frightened I'd blow away. I stared at the desert, as if expecting to find a cloaked figure to escort me out.

Instead, I found a tall door which materialized out of thin air before my very eyes.

I hesitated… It all felt like some bad dream. I stared at the door, and reached out to grab the doorknob that was a couple of feet away from me; the sand storm was worsening now; my hair and eyes were full of it.

A particularly strong gust of wind blew, and I was knocked to my feet, almost having reached the doorknob; the shaskas were obviously coming towards me-- and quickly. I coughed up sand, and reached upwards; after what seemed like hours, my hand clenched around the silver doorknob.

As I brought myself to my feet again, I bit my tongue, in confusion. I did not want to stay here, but all the same, I wasn't all that eager to rush into the unknown… But there was no time for hesitation; a male voice was calling my name in anger; I paused to look at him. It was a shaska, all right. I had to act. _Now._

My grip tightened, and I pulled the door open; finding nothing but blinding white light on the other side; _'Do not be afraid,' _ my fairy godmother's words repeated in my head; I nodded, and stepped into the light. The door was slammed shut; cutting off the shaska, who had narrowly missed me, and was now struggling to open the door, but it was locked, and with that, I was on my way to another world once again.


	12. Unconscious Dreams

_Chapter 12: Unconscious Dreams_

The entire world seemed to stop as I fell for what seemed like countless ages through the blue sky, and then, my head came into contact with cement, and as blood trickled down my forehead, I was instantly knocked unconscious.

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"Seems... Seems... Nothing is as it seems..."

_My eyes snap open upon hearing the strange faraway words, and I find that I am now staring into the complete darkness once again, "Where am I?" I ask, standing up on a pair of very shaky legs, but no answer is heard, "Where am I?" I repeat, angrily, _**"WHERE AM I?"**

"Nothing is as it seems, Beatrice... Nothing is as it seems..."

"_Who are you?" I call out, but my eyes are forced shut once again, and I scream my lungs out, but no one can hear me; my mouth is somehow forced shut once again, and I am drowning in misery..._

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_Her plait of blonde hair whips around as she turns to face me, "But you're dead!" I scream, realizing that she has remained unchanged, "You're dead!"_

"_No, Beatrice," she hisses; a forked tongue issuing from her mouth, "It is _you _who are dead."_

_And her face fades away into painful darkness._

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"_**HELP ME!" **a voice is screaming through the void; taking me away from the darkness._

"_Who are you?" I ask, and he comes into focus; a handsome boy chained up in what appears to be a prison-cell; my heart melts at the sight of him. He is so needy. He wants my help-- but before I can reach out to touch his scared face, he fades away once again, and is replaced by darkness..._

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"Trust no one," _she whispers, as I open my eyes once again, "Who are you?" I call._

"A guardian," _the voice whispers, _"Beatrice, you must wake up. There is something of _grave _importance to be learned here... When you awaken, follow your heart, and not your head."

"_But-- wait, I think I know you… Are you the one who--?"_

"My identity is irrelevant-- but yours on the other hand is not. You must discover it now as opposed to later."

"_Please-- no. You need to tell me who you are… I must know. Your voice…"_

"…is familiar," _she finishes, _"but you cannot dwell upon it. Don't harp on--"

"_Who are you?" I scream, angry at being told off._

"Do not be afraid," _the voice whispers, and I am plunged into darkness once again._

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My eyes snapped open once again, as I realized that the dreams had not been real-- thank God. A car screeched somewhere down the road, and I jumped out of the way to avoid the pain of being run over by the madman driving, "Watch where you're going, asshole!" I called after the driver, angrily; the same way I had reacted thousands of times before when I had still been living on the streets. I had seen someone-- a kid-- no more than five or six run over once years earlier, and the idea of _me _dying like that wasn't too pleasant. Like they usually did, the driver ignored me, and tossed out an empty bottle of beer, _Drinking in the afternoon-- not the best of signs, _I thought, as I absentmindedly jammed my hands into my jeans pockets, and began to walk away from the crowded streets-- all the cars, I mean. My forehead was throbbing painfully, and I remembered there had been blood-- a bruise or lump was definitely going to form on the spot-- damn. It was just like the night Jacqueline had given me the apple, only _that _time, it had been on the back of my head-- the sneaky bitch… It was uncanny. I looked around myself wildly; I did not recognize anything-- how predictable. _Where am I? _I wondered, realizing that my forehead was continuing to drip red blood onto the sidewalk-- but, as soon as the blood stained the ground, it would disappear-- this was strange indeed, _What has happened to me this time around? _I wondered, continuing to look around me at the world that was so modern-- but also strangely beautiful to me; hundreds of yellow taxicabs were rushing down the streets-- just like in those cheesy made-for-television movies you can't help but watching to have a good laugh; people were running in and out of the many shops-- most of them quite overpriced, by the look of things, while apartment buildings towered thousands of feet over us all; my heart froze in my chest as I realized where I was. _New York City, _I thought to myself, ignoring the pain in my head, and beginning to run down the streets; I practically passed right through hundreds of people, and they ignored me-- I realized that I had only been sent here to watch. I obviously could not intervene again. Oh, well. It figured.

I blinked sleep out of my eyes; the dreams that I dreamt all day-- or whatever it had been, were frightening-- Who had those people been, and the boy… The boy-- he had been the most maddening of them all. _Why had he sought my help so…? _I wondered, continuing to walk; it was troubling, after all. That boy had seemed so helpless, but what had it all meant…?

I paused in mid-step.

My mind was buzzing with questions once again-- and there were many. I had wanted to ask Elaine who had sent me to witness the atrocities that had taken place on Mars all those years, but it was as if my mind had been wiped blank before I'd even the chance to ask-- was it a friend of Elaine's, perhaps--? Another faerie, even? It hadn't been a shaska. Otherwise, I'd be lying in that cave, deader than I was before…

And why had I been sent _here, _of all places? Surely, nothing relevant could have taken place in one of the largest cities in the world, and this wasn't the future, for I had just seen some bus pass by advertising some film from the mid '80s. This was obviously the past.

So, why was I here?

I stared at a group of people walking beside me; they were chatting casually-- fear was not present in their voices; this was obviously one of those minor occurrences that Elaine had instructed me to watch out for.

I heaved a heavy sigh; life had gotten so very complicated after death…

The sun was beating down on us; it wasn't as bad as the desert place, but I still broke out in a sweat. I wiped it away from my brow, and my heart stopped mid-beat; I stared at a woman running out of a nearby shop, and I murmured my surprise as I recognized her. She was tall, dark, beautiful, and at least seven months pregnant…


	13. You Think You Know Somebody

_Chapter 13: You Think You Know Somebody_

What was she doing here-- it was her, and that was for damn sure; she was dressed just like I remembered her. But nonetheless, how and why was she here…? I felt my heart beginning to race; after all, I had not seen her in person-- or whatever you called this in the last ten years; _Why have I been sent here…? _I wondered, beginning to chase after her so that I would not lose her; determined to keep up with her, and discover the reason she was here-- she walked with quite a fast pace for someone about to have a baby in a couple of months, after all; I ran after her; trying to ignore the sensation as moving cars and people passed directly through me as I darted out into their paths, no longer caring now that I had learned I was unseen by them all. As I walked-- and ran every few seconds, I became more and more determined to discover the reason she was here-- the reason she had lied to me on countless occasions; _'Your father and I moved in here just after your grandmother died, Beatrice-- that was 1988.' _I had never known my mother to tell a falsehood before-- and her being here-- this almost disproved everything she had told me of her life before I had been conceived. She had never mentioned New York-- in fact, she had told me, once, that she hadn't been further than Nevada, and was planning to take me to Europe for graduation-- that was, of course, before she had died. _This is impossible, _I thought after I had finally caught up with her. I caught my breath, trying to make sense of all of this-- _My mother was _never _in New York! _I thought to myself for what seemed the millionth time.

But all the same, here she was-- happy and young. Just like I'd always remembered her-- before the pain, and before her death-- before looking into her empty eyes the day she was buried. I felt tears already forming in my eyes. _I look exactly like her, _I realized with some satisfaction, as I followed her down a very narrow alleyway, _She was so beautiful-- she always was, _I realized with much bitterness, _Why did she have to die so young…?_

But it did not matter-- at least not now. I was here, and although this was nothing but a memory, and she would never know that I had been watching her, we were together again, in some depressing, pitiful way… I felt more tears, as I mouthed her name, painfully; remembering our last words-- our last trip to the market-- our last dinner. Small, trivial things at the time that now seemed so important. I longed for them-- to feel the embrace of my mother again, but that was an impossibility that could not be done-- even by the strongest magic.

The image of her was frightening striking; the long dark hair done up in a ponytail, the nails beautifully unpainted, and a maternity dress that would not have allowed for her slender physique half a year earlier. I smiled at the sight of her. She was dead, but I had forgotten this-- although only for a little while.

She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and crouched down low. I followed her gaze as I came nearer, and found that she was staring into the yellow eyes of a small black cat that had nestled itself in-between a couple of garbage cans, and was nibbling on a fish-bone as it eyed her with mild interest. Its luminous eyes were the only thing of color in the shadows. My mother obviously had a good eye, for had she not noticed the tiny wretch, I never would have. "Hello," she cooed, as she reached out a finger to stroke its fur. It dropped the fish-bone, and ventured out of the shadows, allowing her to scratch it behind the ears. It began to purr in turn. I frowned-- why had my mother not been wary of the thing? After all, stray cats could turn out to be rabid. But my mother _had _been a gentle thing; she had taken care of sick animals that she happened to find-- and would cry if they did not make it in her care-- I would cry with her… so, why was I feeling this way? I had always loved animals-- what was it about this one that made me feel so uneasy and sick to my stomach...?

I ventured closer, and focused my gaze upon the creature; my heart instantly froze in my chest, for I recognized the black cat-- it was the same one that my father had run over in our car nearly a decade before… The little wretch was Jacqueline! But why was she here…? "Don't," I murmured the warning, forgetting again that I could not change the past… I went to shoo the cat away as the despicable creature leapt into my mother's arms, and continued to purr.

"Have you been lost long?" she asked the cat, and the cat seemed to intensify its purrs as an alternative to 'yes.' Without another word said, my mother hugged the thing, and continued to walk in the same direction. I followed the pair closely behind-- hardly daring to keep my eyes open, due to the downright fear and surprise I now felt at having had witnessed it all thus far.

I was soon out of breath once again-- I could not believe that the woman walked quickly-- was she training for a track meet or something? What was wrong with her-- why was she acting as if she was in fear that she was being followed by someone?

Could she somehow sense me there…?

No. That was impossible.

I continued to follow her down the alleyway, then out of it, and onto the other side of the street; she was acting _awfully _suspicious-- my mother, I mean… What was she aiming at? Why did she seem so very nervous? She was avoiding each and every person she met on her way like the plague-- even the small child who could be no more than three walking alongside her father… People stared at her, for she was in such a hurry… She darted in and out of corners as if we were racing through some maze.

Eventually, however, we came to stop in front of one of the towering apartment buildings that I had only previously seen in the movies or on television shows before; she paused to smile at the still purring beast, opened a dark-brown door, and stepped inside, making sure the door was closed behind her before she continued onwards. I continued to follow them doggedly up a narrow staircase, and then through a very wide and welcoming hallway. My mother paused in front of a small door marked 3B, fished through the purse she clutched for a moment, and then pulled out a golden key, which unlocked the door. She opened it, and stepped inside; I, of course followed her wake, and stepped over the threshold and into the beautiful apartment just as the door was closed, and securely locked once again.

My eyes widened in surprise when I realized that I actually recognized the place; the small square room, whose walls were adorned with my mother's college paintings, the small fireplace (unlit now as it was nearing summer, although in some of the photographs, it had been ablaze), the small table covered in small figurines and knickknacks that had seemed to disappear little by little-- one by one directly following Jacqueline's entrance-- _intrusion _into the lives of my father and me. I stared at them, amazed almost; my mouth agape. I had almost forgotten about Jacqueline's presence when the cat suddenly jumped from off of my mother's arms, and on top of the table; knocking a few things over in the process; a figurine of a ballerina shattered into nearly a million pieces on the tiled floor; my heart began to race as the cat stared intently at the corner where I was standing-- almost as if it could see me.

"You bad thing," my mother whispered, nonplussed, as she grabbed the thing off of the table; her voice was gentle while scolding, and she began to per her again as she continued to speak, "Let's go and get you something good to drink," and without another word said, she carried her away down the hall, and into a room that was obviously the kitchen.

This time around, I chose not to follow her.

Instead, I chose to stay behind in the living-room, first passing my hand through the small fragments of glass that had once been the figurine, and then staring at some of the photographs that had hung on the walls of my homes when I had been younger; pictures of my father and mother recently married, and pictures of my father's parents, who had since died. I smiled a very bittersweet smile at the familiar faces; lost in memories until my mother's voice interrupted my thoughts, "It's been lonely here ever since James left for Iraq," she was whispering from the kitchen; her voice breaking, "the baby's due in only a couple of months now," her voice drifted away, and my heart started to pound again... I had never known-- but she was whispering once again, and I had to hear the rest, "I miss--" then, a sound broke the silence of the city-- but not just any sound; a _scream. _I ran into the kitchen to find my mother lying in a pool of her own blood; the cat had gone, "Mom," I murmured, falling to the floor beside her, **_"WHAT'S HAPPENED?" _**I suddenly screamed, loosing my head once again, and forgetting that I could not change the past, **_"HELP!"_**

"_That is _quite _enough, Beatrice," _a voice hissed from behind me.

"Who are you?" I asked, no longer frightened; after all, she would not die-- she _could not die-- _not for another eleven years at least... I stood, and spun around to find a young boy staring at me with cold gray eyes, _"You have seen enough..." _he was now whispering, coldly-- and yet so convincingly; I nodded my head, slowly, knowing that he was right; it would be useless to stay there, but nonetheless, I was uneasy...

"But who are you?" I repeated, but he shook my frantic question away, and went on, _"We must leave this place..."_

"Mom..." I murmured, feebly; surprised by his altogether bluntness, "I cannot just leave her like this," I insisted, gesturing towards her, as she continued to twitch and moan.

"_She will be saved..." _he whispered, _"We must leave, or all will be lost..."_

"But who are you...?" I asked, unsure if I could give my trust to the boy.

He hesitated for just a moment, _"A friend..." _he answered after a moment of uneasy silence, broken by the sounds of the police sirens that were approaching the building-- the authorities had been notified. The boy was right. It was time to leave.

"Take me then," I whispered, as we ran out of the door, and down the stairs, _"I shall make us a door in the air to travel by," _he was whispering, as the tall door instantly appeared right beside us, and he turned the knob. I hesitated at his wake, but he turned to face me once again, _"Elaine said not to be afraid, Beatrice," _he whispered, and then he leapt inside, and I followed him inside of it; almost instantly wondering why, exactly, Elaine had decided to send him to me-- who was he, and where had he come from...?

If only I would not have trusted him so easily.


	14. Face to Face with a Murderer

_Chapter 14: Face to Face with a Murderer_

I searched through the darkness, only to find nothing and no one. The boy was there-- yes, but I could not see him at all; his sudden appearance in my mother's old apartment had been quite distressing. I had never liked it one bit when people decided to appear out of the blue and expect you to automatically trust them; Jacqueline had done this with my father, and he had been ignorant enough to welcome her intrusion and control wholeheartedly. I had learned from his great folly, and this was the reason why I had such a hard time giving my trust to anyone-- I had, in this case, felt that the boy was safe, but I still felt the tiniest bit frightened. All the same, he appeared to be an all right fellow; he hadn't pulled out a knife on me yet… That was a plus.

And for some strange reason, this journey was not as smooth as the previous… As the jade green light slowly dissipated, being replaced by complete nothingness, my head began to throb quite painfully, while that former feeling of weightlessness I had endured the first time was replaced by a new and painful feeling of foreboding doom that centered within the pit of my stomach… I hated it; why hadn't Elaine warned me of this boy, and the strange pain he would bring to me during our journey to the next world…? "What is happening to us?" I eventually asked, but no answer came. Maybe it was just me, or maybe it was the added presence of the strange boy, but this journey was lengthy, uncomfortable, and frightening. I wanted it all to end-- soon.

The throbbing in my head seemed to increase due to lack of an answer. The falling became worse; I hadn't remembered the previous journey having lasted this long either-- the other had done its job in about three minutes. Already, this one had seemed to have taken an hour, with no signs of stopping, "Why is this taking so long?" I called out to the boy I could no longer see, but he chose not to answer-- if he had even heard me. I frowned-- why did it seem as if it were getting steadily darker…? Was I losing my mind…?

"Who are you?" I called out to the boy; he had not answered my previous questions-- maybe he would respond to this one. He chose not to. I became a bit more vexed, and wondered if he'd somehow gone temporarily deaf.

My head continued to throb throughout as well.

Eventually-- at long last, the falling came to a stop, and I found that somehow, we had landed directly upon our feet as opposed to the first fall. The nothingness disappeared, and it felt good to have a hard ground beneath my feet again. I blinked to get my eyes to adjust to the light-- opposed to what I had thought the first couple seconds of being here, there wasn't much. "Where have you taken me?" I asked, my voice slightly demanding-- I couldn't help it, though. After all, he _had _pretty much given me the silent treatment ever since I had followed him through the door in the air…

He took his sweet time to answer, as if amused by my confusion, "That does not matter, Beatrice, my dear," he whispered; his voice a low hiss, "Where are we?" I asked, "It's still pretty dark," I went on, trying my best to sound matter-of-factly-- to hide my utter discomfort at the familiar tone of his voice, "I don't want…" I drifted off; not really knowing what it was that I did not want. Something was strange; there was something very fowl in the air. Panicked thoughts chased each other through my mind; deciphering them, I realized that I should not have so easily trusted him. I wanted Elaine. I wanted her to explain everything, and give me some god-damn closure, "Please…"

"Embrace the darkness," he whispered; choosing to finally respond to my second statement.

"Look. Who the hell are you?" I asked, perturbed, and altogether pissed at his lack of an answer-- how many times did someone have to request to hear an explanation? A million?

He took a while to respond yet again; his face came into better focus as my eyes continued to adjust, "A murderer," he whispered at long last; his voice filled with calm madness that filled my very soul with dread.

"What?" I asked, as I continued to recognize the voice, "Wait… your voice…"

"You're quick… Recognize me now, Beatrice?" Travis hissed, and my blood instantly ran cold, "No…" I whispered, "No, it can't be. Not you… Not you…" He laughed, and I felt my nails scratching against the stone-wall trying to find an escaped. He continued to laugh that crazy laugh of his, and I suddenly knew why he was laughing with such gusto. He laughed at my fear… He laughed at the fact that I had actually been stupid enough to trust him. He laughed because he knew I was now regretting it with all my hear, "But how can you be here, Travis…? How the _fuck _could you be here with me?"

He continued to laugh; increasing my anger-- making me want to reach across the room and slap him right across his smug face, but I could not make any rash decisions. Not yet, but all the same, how could I have been so vulnerable? My nails continued to scratch against the stone-walls in fear, and I felt blood escaping my fingertips. _Don't play the fool, Beatrice, _a voice advised me, _Don't let the bastard get to you-- not yet. _I was right; I had to know everything before I made my move, "I don't understand," I murmured, feebly.

"You wouldn't, Beatrice. The beautiful, smart popular girl I knew back in middle-school could _never _have been able to fathom something to this extent, and although you have grown throughout the long years we were parted, your mind has remained exactly the same. You've been built up as some little hero because of what happened in D'Nalge. But you don't understand, Beatrice," he paused, "You may be dead on the earth, Beatrice, but I still have to stop your little 'quest.' I can't stand around and watch you gain recognition as the 'saver of worlds.' The entire universe is at the mercy of the shaska, and we must make--"

"_We--?"_

"--sure that you do not return to D'Nalge, or anywhere else for that matter… I know how Elaine tried to protect you from death-- _real _death… She's a very smart thing, your fairy godmother, but she could not protect you from your own naivety. It's almost as if you _wanted _to follow me, even though you knew it was wrong. She tried to protect you for so very long, Beatrice, but all those attempts shall now be thwarted once and for all."

"Don't be so goddamn arrogant, Travis," I hissed, "I've done this before. I can do it again," I wan not very confident in my words however, and he obviously sensed this, "It's time, Beatrice. I, Travis Smith-- that was a lie, of course… Now, before you die, I want you to seem me for what I truly am. I know you caught a glimpse before-- on earth, as you--"

"No," I gasped, interrupting him, as the room seemed to drop a thousand degrees, and I was able to look upon his face more clearly; it was not the face I had seen only days before; not even an outline of _that _remained. The eyes so deprived of beauty, the thin green lips, and the forked tongue… The true face of the shaska, "But how can this be?" he asked, tauntingly, as if reading my own thoughts, "How can this be?" he repeated, "That is something that is easier to explain than one would at first believe, Beatrice," he slid back into the shadows, and the beating of my heart slowed again, "Now, it's time for you to die-- _again."_

"Fuck you," I hissed.

He laughed, "Mother always said you could _never _keep that tongue under circumstances in which your precious life was jeopardized," I closed my eyes in an attempt to hide the panic.

"Mother?" I asked, as the throbbing in my forehead somehow began to fade away at hearing the word.

"Yes, my mother… The woman you knew as Jacqueline."

Words that I had forgotten almost instantly after they had been spoken suddenly repeated themselves in my mind with fierce clarity: _'While her only son killed your mother,' _"Then that means you were--"

"Yes. Me. _I _killed your precious mother nine years ago."

"No!" I screamed, wanting to deny it, although I knew it was the truth.

"Yes, and afterwards, Mother was able to slip into the picture-- your life, I mean… To kill you, of course. Your father was just a very weak subordinate."

"Bastard," I hissed, angrily.

"But, near the end, I'm afraid… His mind _was _beginning to return to him. He was beginning to recognize her for what she was-- he would have small outbursts of memory every now and then. He whispered your mother's name, _'Jayne--'"_

"_Joanna," _I hissed, angrily.

"--one night, so Mother strengthened the spell, and killed him the following evening. She meant to kill you directly after; she wanted to, of course… That's why she caused your slut of a mother to go into premature labor all those years ago as she showed you. You were meant to die then, but somehow lived… Your mother gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Good triumphs over wicked once again. How sweet."

"Fuck you," I repeated.

"But my mother made me promise, Beatrice. If she was to die, as prophesized, I was to wait for you until you returned home. I had doubted the prophecy all of my life until the very moment when I learned of my mother's death in D'Nalge. And now it is time for your death, Beatrice…"

I laughed at his sheer foolishness, and then felt my fright instantly disappear, "If you think that I am frightened, then--"

"Don't be," he whispered, smoothly; now mere inches away from my face; breathing his hot, fowl breath directly into my nostrils, and making me begin to gag-- his breath smelled of death, which was steadily approaching, once again.

It was ending. The tale had reached its pivotal climax; I was surprised by this-- how quickly it was all happening. A sure of information, coupled with death threats. Perfect. How long had we been in the cave together…? It had to be less than twenty minutes, but it felt like a lifetime already.

"Get away," I hissed, but he was too quick; before I had the chance to even attempt to begin fighting back, I felt his fist come into contact with my left ear, I was knocked to the floor, and he fell on top of me.


	15. A Promise Kept

_Chapter 15: A Promise Kept_

It was pretty surprising to me that I was still alive some time later… Alive, and yet having the breath slowly choked away from me; I opened my eyes, and gasped as it all seemed to begin to fade away into darkness once again; the face of Travis-- no, the shaska. The face of the shaska, for that is what I had learned it was, was swimming before my watery eyes in painful eyes; fading in and out, as yellow spots clouded my vision. My life was slipping away. I had thought I had been dead-- again, I mean, after he had begun his little choking party. That was almost five minutes ago; how much longer could I endure it? This was death. I could feel my bruises forming as he continued to strangle me; the bones in my neck threatened to crack at any second, "Stop," I managed, but he did not or would not listen to me. I got a good look at his eyes-- they were so determined and frightening… Had my struggling hands not been so restrained, I would have gouged themselves in a desperate attempt at saving my life-- or at least as a way as stopping their constant staring. _Let it end, _I thought, and what people have so often spoken of-- poets, writers, and philosophers, whatever… _It _happened; my life flashed before my eyes in blurry memories that seemed straight out of some foreign slideshow; my third birthday… my mother's death… Jacqueline… my father's death… an apple glowing blood-red in the moonlight… a cottage deep in the woods… Elaine's twisted corpse… Jacqueline… a dagger threatening to penetrate my flesh… the prince lying there on the ballroom floor… tears… Travis… Carla…

In mere seconds, it all played out before me in the back of my mind, and then I realized that if this was the end, it was all coming too soon; there was still time to fight back. I stared at my slayer-- his lips were forming words-- a curse…? No. It was a whispered statement that he kept on repeating, and I had not heard it due to the screams and voices echoing loudly in my head; I strained my ears to hear his words…

"This is for my mother," his voice was whispering; growing fainter and fainter with each syllable as I slipped further away into unconsciousness; Travis was finally getting his vengeance-- that was for sure. But still… I had endured so very much. Surely, I could attempt it… _Fight, _a very small voice was whispering in the back of my mind, _Don't give up, _it went on, but I was barely listening-- my eyes snapped shut. The voice grew louder still, unscathed, _Fight… Fight! _My eyes snapped open once again to find his-- yellow and bloodshot-- focused intently upon me; glowing like two small fires in the night. His hands had suddenly ceased their strangling-- he obviously believed me at last dead-- _I almost was, _I realized. Travis stood up, and I felt my heart continue to race-- I couldn't help but wonder if the sound would echo-- a giveaway. "Goodbye, Beatrice," he was whispering; something cliché like that. I restrained the urge to laugh at the not-so-very-well rehearsed line. _Hasn't even checked if I'm still breathing-- he's lost his touch, _I thought as he turned his back to me, content. And knowing it to be quite rash, I jumped up, hoping that I had not made too much of an obvious "comeback" from the dead, _"Travis…" _I hissed at his retreating back, "Aren't you _forgetting _something?"

He allowed me a few moments before his reaction. I dove further back into the shadows, hoping that I'd successfully thrown my voice, and he would have no clue where I was. "Where are you now, you little bitch?" he hissed, and as he whipped around to face me, his eyes seemed to glow brighter still, almost illuminating the darkness, "The dead do not stay that way very long around here, do they?" I taunted, "You should be more careful next time-- although, sadly there won't be a next time. You're dead now, fucker."

"Why not spout your nonsense to your whoring mother?" he asked, clearly vexed by the notion that I'd so easily slipped through his long fingers, "Beatrice, why don't you just come out of the shadows, and _fight?" _

I laughed, "Why don't you at least _try _to find me."

"You have tried my patience enough. If--"

"Okay. Okay, then. We'll play by your rules, but I assure you, Travis. _I will win."_

It was now his turn to laugh, "Foolish girl," he whispered; his voice full of mock amusement-- his choice of words sounding as if they'd come directly from _Invasion of the Body Snatchers _or _It Came from Outer Space. _"I am so very _sick _of this shit. Just come out and fight, or your death will be a thousand times more painful."

"Come up with something original for once, Travis-- this is just like the time you plagiarized your English report; stop sounding like some cheesy B-movie," I jumped forward from the shadows to find that a faint light was steadily glowing in the far right-- _Dawn was now approaching. _If I could make a quick run for it…

But, before I could begin, the life of my legs seemed to be sucked away by an invisible vacuum. I was frozen in my tracks; _A spell, _I realized, lamely, angry at myself for basically giving him the chance to get me down like this. I fought to regain feeling in my legs, but it was useless-- I was stuck between a rock and a hard place now, and Travis was about to get his way…

"Not so fast, Beatrice. Running away… _again? _Running away from our problems only shows our true cowardice in the end-- surely you know that by now. But when you ran away the first time, Beatrice, you should have _stayed _away. Returning home only managed to get yourself and dear Carla killed. You are a coward, Beatrice. Nothing but a coward; everything you've done your entire life was never bravery… You are a coward. You are a coward, and you will die a coward's death."

"No," I murmured, feebly, but then stopped mid-sentence; it hurt to try to speak. I let out a heavy groan, and fell to the floor with a loud _THUMP! _that made a definite echo; had he been unaware of my whereabouts up until now, that had definitely give it away.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

He was taunting me-- laughing at my pain… He had always been the type, but seriously-- couldn't he show even the _tiniest _bit of decency to the person he was about to kill for a second time…? My anger reached its boiling point-- again, **_"FUCK YOU!" _**I roared, and then I screamed in pain-- it had nearly drained the life out of me to scream; the room faded away, and then reappeared again, as I heard the spine-tingling sound.

He laughed.

And then I remembered something; a promise-- a vow that I had made to someone nearly an entire year ago; _'I'm gonna find the bastard who did this'-- _I had made it this far, hadn't I? And Beatrice Horowitz never broke a promise. I could not give up so easily-- that's what he wanted; that's what they _all _wanted. A flash of white light-- pure energy suddenly burst from within the small amulet I kept around my neck; breaking the spell that had held me there. Travis let out a groan, and slumped over; falling onto the cold stone floor-- _Not dead; _just stunned, or something along the lines of.

I lay there for a moment, counting my blessings. It had worked, obviously. Somehow-- someone or something had intervened-- or whatever magic the amulet possessed had somehow saved me, but I could not stay here forever. I had to get out.

Seizing my chance, I heaved my aching body upwards, onto my feet, and began running towards the light-- the amulet was now beginning to burn a hole in my neck-- it was burning white hot. Travis had now gotten up as well-- damn; he was fast-- and had begun chasing after me. The spell or whatever it was had not lasted as long as I would have hoped.

I suddenly fell to the floor once again, "Fuck!" I screamed out loud, realizing that he had used a second spell on me… He sure fought dirty; I'd nearly been out, and he'd had the audacity to "get" me once again. The sneaky bastard.

Rough, callused hands grabbed at my trembling body, and I felt searing pain throughout-- he was skilled at his spell-work. That was evident. I felt hot tears of frustration cascading down my cheeks as I was violently dragged back from the cave's entrance, (for yes, I had realized the place was a small cave-- although very different from the one I'd called home.) I was then taken back into the depths of the shadows that seemed to swallow us both hole.

I screamed for help, but there was no one to hear me-- and he reminded me of this. I was all alone with Travis… All alone, and with no way out.

"That was _quite _foolish of you, Bea," he was now whispering; still gasping for breath, I nodded slowly, "And I think you've twisted your ankle as well," I suddenly noticed the searing pain in my right ankle, and wondering how the injury had been sustained, I let out an angry wail. _"Stop _screaming," he snarled the warning, and heaved me to my feet. I let out another groan, as he stood up, and kicked me square in the stomach; knocking the wind out of me. Everything was beginning to fade away into darkness once again, but the pain had only just begun. I knew this.

He kicked me once again; this time in the face-- I tasted my own blood… and lots of it; I spat out, and to my horror, found my two front teeth mingled with dark-red blood. "That was only the beginning, baby," he whispered, and I opened my eyes to look upon his grimy, grotesque face; knowing it would be the last image I would ever see. "Coward," I hissed; it was difficult to speak, and my voice made a strange whistle through the gap where my missing teeth had been, "It's over," he finished, for he held a dagger only inches above my chest.

It was now or never-- with a twisted ankle, a broken nose, and consciousness threatening to fade away, I was running out of options. There wasn't much I could do now; with every last ounce of strength I possessed within me, I kneed him in the groin with my uninjured leg; he yelped in pain, and keeled over; the dagger fell to the floor with him.

I lay there in deep thought for a few seconds as Travis continued to clutch his injured parts, and scream in agony. Continuing to tell myself that it was almost over, I stood up, and nearly passed out in pain from it. Ignoring that sense of pending doom, I grabbed the dagger, and knelt beside him on the ground as he struggled to fight against me, "Helpless now, aren't we?" I smiled, and plunged the dagger into his chest right above where his heart would be, "That was for my mother," I murmured.


	16. An Angel of Mercy

_Chapter 16: "An Angel of Mercy" _

I pulled the dagger out from his chest the moment the life left his eyes. Relieved by what I had at last accomplished, I had kept my promise to the spirit of my mother, and the whole of me just felt a bit more… _free. _A large weight had been lifted from off of my shoulders, and then I nearly gagged, as I stood up in disgust. His blood was now pooling at my feet; the sticky substance which stunk of iron staining my flesh that unmistakable color. "Bye," I murmured, releasing the dagger, and allowing it to fall to the floor once again. It was over-- or at least, part of it was. It really didn't matter though-- I had done it, at least. Travis Smith-- or whatever his true name had been was now dead. No more. A memory. The truth had been revealed; I now knew his parentage, and I knew what he had truly been. Carla was avenged as well. Two birds with one stone-- I could only hope that she would find it in her soul to forgive me. A split second later, I focused on the injuries I had sustained from the rough battle; I felt the large empty gap between my teeth in my bloody mouth with my tongue-- there was some heavy bleeding. I realized I could even smell the shit-- it was then that I remembered that he'd been able to break my nose, and blood was continuing to gush out in a nauseating fashion. I winced in pain, and then fell to the ground, as I remembered the throbbing pain in my ankle-- _searing _pain. _How did I have so much energy to fight him not even thirty seconds ago? _I wondered, and then an answer came, as the amulet flashed dully white once again, and then became dull and glassy as it had been before; _What spell is upon this stone? _I wondered, gently fingering it, just as I realized it had been sprayed with blood as well. I was unsure if the particular stain had come from me or Travis. And not possessing the necessary equipment to analyze the blood, I dropped the thought; _Does it really matter if there's some spell? It saved your life, whatever it was._

I allowed the amulet fall back to the nape of my neck, and began to wonder whether or not I could be saved, or if Elaine could be watching over me this very instant, as she had said she would always be. It was a long shot but worth a try, "Elaine," I whispered, "I can't walk. Please do something. Help me," I spat out another mouthful of blood, and stared at it in disgust for a moment before continuing, "Please, I need you now more than ever, fairy godmother," and before I had the chance to finish my plea, there she was. Her shimmering, transparent form was an angel of mercy beside me, "Help," I murmured, my eyes closing despite my lack of tiredness-- despite the fact that I was eager to strike up a conversation on the day's happenings, I lost control, "Ankle--" and before I had finished my sentence, the lullaby of Elaine's spell caused me to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

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"Wake, Beatrice," a voice was now whispering through the darkness, penetrating my thoughts, and dragging me away from the mystical dream world to which I been confined to since drifting off-- my lips formed a slight smile, and my eyes gently opened to find Elaine staring down at me, "Where am I?" I murmured.

She did not answer, "You must be hungry-- I forgot to send food along, sorry for the oversight."

I opened my mouth to contradict her, but then realized that although I hadn't thought of it, I _was _hungry, "How long has it been since Mars?"

"About a day."

"It seems like so much longer than that," I murmured, quietly.

"Here's some bread and cheese, and three or four oranges-- you like oranges, right?"

I nodded, as the aforementioned foods materialized out of thin air, and tied themselves up in a neat knapsack, "There's some wine in there too-- do you drink?"

"Not really, but I'll overlook it. I won't be stumbling around after two bottles of champagne like Jacqueline after she married my father-- I'm no drunk."

"Sorry for all the haste, dear, but get up. You are not safe in this place-- neither am I."

"But Travis is dead," I whispered gesturing towards his lifeless, blood spattered form, "I killed him," I couldn't help but smile at the thought of having been able to kill my mother's slayer with such relative ease.

"I know that, but there are infinitely more to be found here."

I nodded. It seemed so unfair; right after I killed one of the bastards, more were on their way to do me in… Couldn't they leave me the hell alone for five seconds? It was stressful enough without them chasing after them, and I was far too lazy to be on my way once again, "Please--"

"_Stand," _she whispered, almost finishing my own sentence for me.

I shook my head, "But I can't," I replied, gesturing towards my ankle.

She smiled, "That was something very easily remedied. Stand, my child."

I nodded, realizing that the pain in my ankle was now gone, as was the gap between my teeth where two new teeth had magically grown. The bridge of my nose was straight, and all the blood had been siphoned away.

I stood.

"Thank you," I murmured somewhat lamely; unsure what else to say in return for such a magnitude of helpfulness.

She nodded, handing me the knapsack of items, "You must leave _now."_

I shook my head stubborn as a mule, "But, Elaine. The lady-- and the voice. You can't just send me off without telling me the--"

"I know that you have many questions right now to be answered, but there is not enough time."

"There never is," I hissed, exasperatedly, "Furthermore, Elaine--"

"_Now, _Beatrice! Get out of here before they swarm. Do you not know a thing about their world? His death will come as quite a blow for them. Run, Beatrice. Get out while you can."

Deciding it best to ask questions later rather than now, I turned my back to Elaine, and began running as fast as I could.

I exited the cave and found myself in the midst of a barren wasteland; a dying red sun cast its dark shadow over a world deprived of both life and beauty, and there were other caves-- I stared around me, frightened. _The shaska, _I realized, but there was not enough time to think. A door had suddenly appeared, and without a single ounce of hesitation, I wrenched it open, and jumped inside-- I was falling… falling fast; I wondered if when I would at last land, my bones would break upon impact.

I ended up worrying over nothing.

I landed, but something soft broke my fall. It was obviously twilight, as the sky was both purple and dotted with small distant yellow stars. I stood up, and realized I had landed on a small pile of sand-- _A desert, _I thought, half frightened, _Why am I here? _I wondered, as a heavy gust of wind blew the pile of sand away from me. I blinked the small grains of sand out of my watery eyes; how I despised these damn places.

"Hello?" I called out, unsure as to whether or not I had been sent to the past or present this time around, "Is anyone here?"

No answer.

Damn. This was another one of those "watch and see" places. I hated that…

My stomach growled. Ignoring it, I decided to try again. "Hello?" I repeated.

I hastily peeled an orange, and shoved some in my mouth. To my disdain, I found a seed or two and spat them out before swallowing. The orange was juicy and delicious nonetheless; I swallowed, and peeled a second as I began to walk. Having my fill of oranges, I tore off a chunk of bread and some cheese and chewed slowly, processing the atmosphere of the place. I uncorked the bottle of wine, and feeling a bit dyke-ish, drank deeply directly from the bottle, and then nearly vomited. Other than a stolen sip of champagne at a wedding long ago, I had never cared for the taste of alcohol. My shoulders shook in disgust, and I dumped the bottle out entirely in favor of another bite of bread.

My stomach altogether nourished, I tied the remaining foods in the handkerchief, and held it. I had realized that I could hear a voice-- a voice I had instantly recognized. I uttered the name, and then when zero answer came, I decided to go to him since he would not come to me.

I followed the sound of his voice until I hat at last found him-- a rather tall man crouched down low with his back facing me, "Hello," I whispered, "can you help me?"

No answer.

I frowned. This was obviously the past. I walked in front of the man to get a better look at his face. I gasped. My first vague suspicions had indeed been correct. My _father, _"Dad?" I murmured, frightened; looking closer at his face, and reaching out to touch it. But, my hand passed directly through it as if it were mere vapor. "Dad," I repeated, no longer a question; a statement-- a demand. A word that sounded so alien and new to me from its disuse. And somehow, he was now changed-- this was not the man who had taken me for long walks along the beach when I had been a child-- he was younger. He was not the father I had known. What had happened to him? His face was so different-- sadder; the eyes that had shown before with love and understanding were dull and glassy, the once clean-shaven face I had admired was now covered with stubble-- a beard was forming. Suddenly putting two and two together, I realized where I now was. Iraq-- so this was how my father had wound up during his "disappearance," but how had he returned home?

He looked mad-- insane; as I had looked when I had been lost in the forest, and trapped within the oasis. Maybe the madness was something that ran in the family; I chuckled, and gasped at his unkempt hair; wild and ferocious in appearance. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying at the sight of my him; as with my mother, it had been such a very long time since I had actually been able to see him, "How did this happen?" I asked, out loud.

And a sound came. A movement not too far off from my father and me. He paid no attention to it-- almost as if he did not want to hear anything-- as if he was trying to drown out the rest of the world. I couldn't blame him; knowing what had befallen my mother in the other memory, a shaska was very likely to be lurking in the shadows-- was that how the two memories were connected? Had Jacqueline entered my father's life before I was old enough to remember, just like my mother…? It couldn't be. My heart began to race as a voice came; its words were eerily cold, and yet strangely calming, _"James…" _it whispered. I whipped around to find who had spoken, but found no one-- quite predictable, and yet I _could _almost recognize the voice. I had heard it spoken once-- no twice before. The woman in the dream… The strange nameless woman whose identity remained anonymous. Was she the strange presence? It-- she continued to speak directly to the man who was now cowering in the shadows, _"Stand… Joanna is waiting…"_

And she stepped out from nowhere. I gasped at the sight of her although I had seen her once before. I now understood that it had been she who had sent me to the memory of Mars's destruction. She was so absolutely _beautiful-- _even more beautiful in person, if you could call it that. She smiled at my father as he attempted to further himself into the shadows; he remained silent-- almost as if he had been too traumatized by whatever he had encountered within the desert between then and now to speak. _"Do not be afraid of me…" _she whispered, _"I will not hurt you… Stand…"_

He obeyed. She ventured towards him, and began to stroke his hair gently; I stared at the beautiful nameless entity of a woman as she comforted my father. How could someone be so beautiful and pure? Her long dark hair was pulled back, and done up in a tight bun on the top of her head, while her deep blue eyes were twinkling-- even in the dismal darkness of night; my father's fright lessened, and I focused my gaze more intently upon the pair-- the mortal and the immortal-- the man and the faerie, for this was what she surely was. _That _was evident, _"Take my hand…"_ she whispered, and she held out a pale hand for my father to take. Without anymore hesitation, he gently took the hand, and their forms faded away, leaving me alone, wondering about what had just conspired here. I stared around me at the now empty world… These two glimpses into the past-- that of my mother's near miscarriage and my father's rescue-- what had they meant? What had happened to my mother? And who was the woman who saved him from that death worse than many-- I had seen her before, and yet I still did not know a thing about her other than she was strangely gorgeous, and obviously a faerie or immortal being of some sort.

I stared around me, unnerved by everything; this memory was over obviously; otherwise I would have gone with my father and the strange woman back to New York-- or wherever they had gone after having left the desert. The worst was over; nothing major had occurred between my father's leaving the desert, and his safe return to the mortal world of earth. Obviously, there was no relevance in the desert anymore.

But it made no sense of any kind. I needed answers-- and quickly, "Elaine!" I called out into the darkness, but there came no answer-- expected of Elaine, of course, but nonetheless annoying, "Elaine!" I screamed again, but there was no response.

Instead, a door appeared, and without a choice, I opened it, and jumped inside.


	17. One Final Glimpse into the Past

_Chapter 17: One Final Glimpse into the Past_

I fell.

The door slammed shut behind me after I had entered the darkness, and I felt the comfort of gravity dissipating little by little until it became nonexistent.

I hated this.

I fell without knowing what was going on around me, and the new world I had been sent to seemed to scream as well. I let out one final scream of altogether hopelessness, and then finally landed-- flat on my face. _Smooth landing, Beatrice--_ I thought to myself, "Ow," I breathed, feeling the grainy roof of my mouth. I spat out a small bit of sand, and judging by the somewhat harsh glare of the sun in the sky, at first believed myself to have been sent to a second desert. Only after realizing that so many trees could have _never _grown in such close succession in such places, and the fact that there was never grass, did I stand and take a look around me to see where I now was.

I stared around the small enclosure of sand where I had landed, and marveled at what it was… a simple sandbox. Something I had not seen the likes of in _years; Why has Elaine sent me here? _I wondered, for what seemed the millionth time in a mere couple of days…

I heard sounds; childish laughter screams of delight. The child seemed so very happy, but something about today was not right. Something was obviously amiss in the fleeting perfection that was the park-- for that's where I obviously was now… Although nothing out of the ordinary was taking place, I somehow sensed that something dark was about to being-- I hate that fucking feeling. It scares the shit out of me-- it can end up being worse than the aftermath, but being the person I am, it can end up being dead helpful in the end.

The little girl continued to scream whatever she was screaming, and I strained my ears to decipher what the hell was being shouted so loudly and happily by the little thing. Her words were not lost in the fierce wind-- not cut off by an angered adult. She was a child; only a child could utter that sound in such a high-pitched way, and at her age, she would not be reprimanded. Not in a million years. I smiled to myself. I had not heard such happiness in quite a while; memories of my own childhood seeped into my mind. Carla, Jenny (before she became a two-faced phony whore), and other long-forgotten friends. Untroubled, smiling children who made their elders a bit happier. Birthday parties, schoolwork that involved little or no thought-- childhood; how long ago it now seemed.

"Daddy!" the small girl was screaming in the near distance, and as I blinked several more small grains of sand out of my watery eyes, the gleeful laughter intensified, and the giddy girl came into view. Her dark hair-- obviously cut short in preparation for a hot and sticky Californian summer had a small scrunchie in it-- obviously her favorite color, as her tee-shirt was a dark blue as well. Her lips were a deep red, and her face pale and dotted with small freckles-- though the freckles were likely to vanish during puberty, and the skin darken as she matured. She was a shell of the woman she would become; _But who is she? _That's what I truly longed to know. Her face was a little dirty; covered in either dark mud-- maybe ice cream. I had forgotten the temperature. I followed the girl with my eyes until she stopped in front of the man who was obviously her father. My heart froze; it was _my _father, which meant-- "Don't go anywhere out of my sight, Beatrice," my father warned the child gently, trying his best to clean the mess off of her-- _my _face. I beamed at the sight of them; a scene from the glorious past-- although try as I might, I simply could not remember it. There was something so very surreal about this "memory." Although it obviously involved me to some degree, I had no recollection. I stared at the duo, and wondered.

I paused in attempts to place the park as the little girl and her father came closer and closer. Then it hit me just like a ton of bricks. _The _park-- or at least that's what I had called it up until I was ten. Shadyside Hills Park. I smiled, as warm memories flooded back to me (I was still unable to place this one), but nonetheless, I remembered jungle-gyms, swing-sets, and sandcastles that had been so amazing to build, and so depressing to leave behind. _Shadyside Hills Park; _I had not been there since the age of fourteen when I had snuck out of the house to avoid Jacqueline. Carla and I had stayed under a pair of oak trees with a warm blanket for almost four hours just talking until a bitter storm came and we were forced to walk each other home. I stared at the other Beatrice as she promptly ran from her-- my father, and dove into the sandbox. I stared at the former, untroubled Beatrice as she promptly began a sand castle- her favorite activity from the ages of four to seven. It was so ironic that here I was, watching her, knowing everything about her future-- and how devastating it would eventually become. Right about now, she knew nothing about backstabbing friends, heartbreak, or death. She was so damn lucky; I longed to reach out and grab her-- to take her away from this place, and at least attempt to erase the horrible future that lay in store for her. Changing everything, and obliterating my "destiny" from having ever existed.

But instead, I could only sit beside her and watch; icy chills were sent up my spine each time she giggled-- each time she beamed to herself; proud of her creation that would be destroyed by nightfall.

She-- _I _could be no more than six or seven years old. _Why have I been sent here? _The question was now beginning to vex me; would it _ever _be answered-- by _anyone?_

Who knew?

Suddenly, Beatrice stared directly at me-- not at _me, _exactly, but at _something. _I turned my back to her, just as the black cat jumped into the sandbox and approached the younger version of myself. "Don't," I murmured, trying to remember this incident happening. The scar on my left arm twanged painfully, "Bea. Honey. _Don't," _my father was warning, and before it actually happened, I remembered everything. Lying in a small hospital room, being watched over by about seven nurses and doctors for signs of rabies… _The scar; _that Jessica girl had asked me about it quite a while ago back in D'Nalge, as had that community worker just recently at the soup kitchen. I had told each of them that how it had happened to me was a complete mystery-- not nicely, of course, and now, I at last remembered.

The cat leapt into Beatrice's arms, and instantly began to purr as it had with my mother. Then the inevitable came; four angry red streaks appeared on her left arm, one of which would remain forever, and as the dark blood began to ooze out, she began to scream as did her father. The cat hastened to lap up the blood flowing from the wounds onto her greedy tongue. My father almost instantly leapt into the sandbox as he had been a mere few feet away, and the cat darted away to avoid him. Without another word said, he grabbed the screaming child out of the sandbox and began running in the other direction.

I stared at the scar upon my arm once again; remembering the fear of being infected with rabies, although I did not know what it was at the time, and an endless amount of stitches; all the while wondering how I could have _possibly _forgotten the traumas relating to the scar.

"_Come, Beatrice…" _a calm voice was now whispering, _"There is time for words now…"_


	18. Closure, or Lack Thereof

_Chapter 18: Closure, or Lack Thereof_

Deciding to cut to the chase, and not reprimand Elaine for not having decided to supply information sooner, I spoke, "Those things-- those _memories, _or whatever you'd like to call them-- I just don't understand how one leads to the other," I paused; everything seemed bright and fake to me. I frowned, attempting to process everything that had just happened; the last three memories… Elaine remained silent, "Please answer me now, Elaine-- you did promise," I suddenly snapped, forgetting my manners.

"I know, Beatrice. I knew it would take much--"

I was growing impatient; I did not wish to listen to answers to the questions I had not asked, "The woman who saved my father, Elaine… _That's _what I need to know. Who was--?"

Elaine's face suddenly reflected the unobvious graveness of my having asked the question, _"Her name cannot be spoken here," _my fairy godmother whispered, "Why?" I asked, a long suppressed anger now beginning to boil up inside of me, "I can't just sit back here and _not _get the fucking answers I'm entitled to, Elaine! I've waited long enough for answers, and I want them-- _now. _So, start from the beginning. My mother and father-- _now."_

There followed a long moment of awkward silence between the two of us before she began speaking once again, "Well, as you've most likely gathered, Jacqueline came to your mother's New York apartment over twenty years ago to kill the both of you. You were a threat to her the moment you were conceived, and James had been missing in action for almost half a year. However, you miraculously survived the initial attack-- as did your mother. Furious, Quenilecauj and the boy you knew as Travis went into hiding for many years. Always nearby, they waited for the right chance to reenter your lives, and that moment--"

"But that lady-- and my father… How…?" I drifted off, my mind reeling way too much to allow a proper question.

"Your father was separated from his troop, and lost in the desert two and a half days before his scheduled return to America-- there are rumors of a shaska interference (probably true), but other than that, we are unsure as to what could have possibly befallen him there. All we have are skeptical questions and misty answers. They were able to make him untraceable; magic could not help us, so without its aid, it took _months _for us to finally find him, and when we did, we were unsure if he was still alive; he spoke of a place-- a nonexistent place. A limbo, if you will; it is probable that for most of his 'exile,' he wasn't where he was.

So, he was saved by someone-- the lady that you have seen… you saw her once in a dream, did you not?"

I nodded, "And hers was the voice I heard before I was sent to learn the forgotten fate of Mars."

Elaine merely nodded, and I chose to pose another question, "So, this woman saved my father from the shaskas' decision to leave him for dead in the desert?"

"Yes. She took your father home to you; wiping his memory away. It would have been too dangerous otherwise. Still delirious and confused, he was found by your mother in a gutter at three o'clock in the morning; being the sensible type, she took him home to his waiting infant daughter without consulting the authorities. Exactly seven years would pass before the shaska would have the opportunity to tamper with your lives again."

My lips pursed. I hated the ambiguity of it all; two attempted murders before I even became aware of Jacqueline's intents-- the reasons she had had that façade since the night she showed up at the doorstep in the pouring rain, "What now?" I asked, "Is there anything else…?"

Elaine shook her head, "Beatrice, is there anything you heard that you haven't told me yet…?"

I raked my memory, "Nothing really… Wait. Travis. He said something-- D'Nalge-- Travis hinted that it might be in danger."

"What?" Elaine demanded, suddenly frightened by the news.

"So, every where's in danger… He might as well have said--"

"Don't you know what this means, Beatrice? D'Nalge is in danger… not the earth!"

"But--"

"But you _must _leave-- _now! _There is no longer time for us to speak."

"But you said--"

"Hurry… Go to the door!"

And she suddenly disappeared in a flash of white light.

"_Fuck," _I murmured; there was no time to argue. I was fuming, but there would be time to rant later, I reasoned. I turned to the door, and wrenched it open… I had wanted to ask her about the properties of the stone as well-- oh well, there was always another day for that.


	19. BACK TO D'NALGE: A Triumphant Return

_Chapter 19: BACK TO D'NALGE: A Triumphant Return_

Still tremendously angered with my fairy godmother for her lock of both information and comfort-- although it had been promised to me, I fell through the portal and the next world almost immediately appeared before my eyes; I realized that the world of D'Nalge had-- for some reason, rapidly changed since my last visit. The sun in the sky seemed angry-- red, and dying; a sun I had only seen captured in grainy photographs back in my middle-school science textbooks; its life was clearly nearing its end, but there was more destruction to view. The sky had begun to reflect this red glow as well, while the forest I had found myself trapped within for months was now extremely dry and barren-- once glowing, fresh and green. The presence of animal life was nonexistent, while the trees had grown twisted and deathly; their gnarled braches reaching towards the sky, as if longing for those happier days when they had been young and beneficial to the world. Their presence was chilling-- I instantly wondered what could possibly have caused such horrors to ensue.

It was no longer a wonderful place-- not that it had been, _really; _for last I had been there, I had witnessed unspeakable horrors within the forest, had seen murder and betrayal-- the Prince had died… because of me. But, all the same, D'Nalge had appeared beautiful from a distance-- as long as you didn't get too close, as long as you didn't get to know any of its inhabitants. That surface had now faded away, and as I fell from the angry red sky, memories of D'Nalge flashed through my mind in a quick and almost nonsensical blur; a manor, an unattractive girl ordering me about, the ballroom, the beautiful gowns, a comb almost boiling with the poison it contained.

At long last, I landed directly on my back in the yellowed grass, which provided a rather comfortable spot. After I had stood, and was composing my thoughts and self, I found that I was standing directly in front of a ruined cottage that had weathered many storms throughout the years-- _Elaine's cottage, _I realized, stretching out my legs to get rid of the fact that they had cramped up without any warning. I then hastened to brush a few blades of dead grass away that had been clinging to my hair, and also the dozen or so that had managed to creep under my shirt. I was perspiring like hell, although I was unsure of the reason, I sensed that the sweat coupled with the cramp was someone's way of warning me of the treacherous happenings that lied ahead. Everything just seemed so very unstable; it was then that I realized that the once beautiful stone structure was completely different, and the huge gaping hole in the front of it told me that the door must've fallen off its hinges and been carried away by the wind many years prior-- but that was impossible, wasn't it? Years couldn't have--

_Years, _I wondered, _but how can this possibly be? I left D'Nalge less than a year ago; _I walled around the cottage nearly four times, in order to see what else was amiss-- other than the fact that it seemed to have had decayed and aged centuries in a mere twelve months or so-- it didn't make sense. The twisting vines that covered the structure from head to toe were numerous; there was no way whatsoever that they could have simply sprung over night… Darkness overcame the world no less than five minutes later when the sun was extinguished, and I realized that night had dropped in for its visit. _I am not safe here, _I realized as the small stone glowed. I had thought the thought many times before; subconsciously and consciously. I shivered, slightly due to fear, as the east winds began to howl mournfully in the not-too-far-off distance. What had happened to this place, and why had there been no warning…? If something terrible was going to happen to this place, it had already begun. Why hadn't I been notified of this by Elaine months before when I was stranded on the streets; mistaken on numerous occasions as a hooker or a drug dealer of some type. My street-bound days had been uneventful. How much effort would it have taken for Elaine to pop in for a minute or two, and warn me that D'Nalge was slowly dying? That I was needed? She was a faerie, after all, and they were supposed to possess powers of knowing the bitter truths of the worlds. Why had I been left in the dark until a half an hour ago-- had it not been for Travis's misty warning, I would never have been notified, and D'Nalge would have gone without a fight. I was here to save it, but how much could I do when there was so much destruction-- so many horrors to see?

But it did not matter-- not just yet. Before providing safety for the millions of D'Nalgeans, I would have to make sure that I was safe myself… For now, I was _not _safe…

_Not safe? But where would I be safe here…? Everything has changed…_

_The oasis, _I realized at last, _Only there would I be safe…_

I turned, and stared at the path that would lead me there-- it had miraculously survived its disuse, and remained virtually unchanged-- the only thing that was. I marveled at the notion, but then realized; my foot having barely made contact with the smooth surface, I remembered that I could not just simply up and leave the cottage. After all, I _had _been sent directly to it-- I might as well've landed on its doorstep. That meant that there was probably something of great importance to be learned here before I set off on my not-so-merry way. I turned around once again, and stared at the cottage, still a bit frightened at the notion of actually _entering _it after such a long absence on my part… _What has happened here? _I wondered as the skies continued to darken and I, somewhat grudgingly stepped away from the path that led into the oasis. After this gesture, the abandoned cottage seemed to beckon me inside a tad bit more.

_Please don't, _a meek voice hissed the warning in the back of my head, but I chose to disobey it, as I had already ventured so close to the cottage that I could actually reach out and touch one of its many stones; I did so, and instantly felt a surge of energy enter me. I shivered from doing so, and took a step over the ruined threshold and into the cottage that Elaine and I had once shared so long ago; hoping to find nothing but warm memories inside, and maybe-- just maybe a clue as to what tasks I was expected to perform in order to erase the world's future.

My blue eyes adjusting to the darkness, I allowed myself further inside as I began to look about me for scraps of what had once been. There were none-- the books had been torn from the shelves, whose wood had since rotted away, leaving behind a vague remnant of the past. The table and chairs had vanished as well, while the bedroom I had stayed in was gone entirely. All that remained was another gaping hole that served as passage to the outside world. Hands slightly trembling, I bent over to snatch a scrap of paper that had survived the wreckage; I stood up instantly having seen a tall figure in the corner in the room. "Hello?" I called out, but when nothing answered, and I saw that I was indeed alone, I chalked the "sighting" up to my frazzled nerves, and somewhat active imagination. I then read the scrap of paper: _"…istory, one may deduce that their role has a negative affect on society and the birth of the firs…" _it became illegible here, and I flung it to the ground, knowing that the information was irrelevant to me. A sound this time-- a whisper? I could not be sure. "Is anybody here?" I called out, hoping that if an unseen presence actually _was _there, that whatever it was, it would be friendly-- in order to foil my usual luck when it came to such matters. For another split second, I could've sworn I'd seen a tall hooded figure eying me with cold vehemence-- fiery red eyes that were frighteningly familiar, and promised death if I ventured too near.

Then, there was nothing but the darkness again. I stared-- it had been nothing… I was just imagining things, but all the same, a heavy stench hung in the air, and it stung my nostrils-- I had been fixated on that scrap of paper, and the changes the cottage had endured, and all the while, there had been something that caused my nose to curl up in distaste, and my eyes to water. _"Beatrice…" _an inhuman voice was now whispering-- or was that just my imagination playing tricks on me again--? But all the same, I fell to the ground in fright, now fully believing that I was no longer alone, and whatever was here was neither good nor peaceful.

"_Death… Soon…" _and then, the whispers stopped as abruptly as they had begun, and I was able to stand once again, although my knees were still knocking together with fright, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I began walking once again and screamed in utter horror when I discovered what was causing the unbearable stench lying right beside me on the floor; a body… and not just any body; a _dead _body-- _a rotting corpse. _

And with it, came the misery, the shock, the bewilderment. That unbearable stench hanging in the air that illustrated human decay; the process of rotting flesh that was the talk of science-- forensics; I had seen the crap on TV hundreds of times. But to see it like this…

Suddenly, without any thoughts of the possible consequences of my actions, I panicked, "Who has done this?" I screamed, looking upon the poor deceased creature's face more closely. The skin had somehow been taken away from it-- _him-- melted away, _I noted, to reveal pearly white bone that glowed in the moonlight like ivory in the sun. Yet the body… the body of the creature was in perfect form, as if he was still alive-- breathing. How long had he been dead? For his face continued to decay and rot; producing the sickening odor that made me want to die as well. My throat instantly filled with vomit; the acidity burning me, "Oh, my God," I murmured, and for the first time in years, I turned to the side, and vomited. Mere inches away from the body. "Help!" I screamed to no one, and before I could hear an answer (if one ever came), I began running away; my feet were pounding on the cold earth; the sound erupting the dead silence of night into madness.

Because of my awkwardness as I ran, I began tripping over just about every fallen tree branch and gnarled tree root that had forced its way out of the soil-- as if claws scratching against flesh on my way out of the cottage, and into the forest. Although following the path, I no longer knew where I was going, but one thing was for sure: I _had _to get away, but everything-- _everything _was now so completely different in this world.

None of it made sense; to my knowledge, _nothing _had been transformed as quickly and as easily as the world of D'Nalge. Even the forest; a place once so alive and green-- now dead, just like the rest of the world; the bare trees continuing to stand so very tall, as if forgotten ghosts from times past bent on seeking me out, while all the while driving me away. "Help!" I called out helplessly; more frightened still as a death bird's wings fluttered behind me as it took flight.

Acting directly on instinct alone, I fell to my knees and ducked; trying to avoid the sounds of whatever it was that was now chasing me with malevolent intents. _No bird-- _I realized dazedly, _--but what…? _I screamed a bitter scream of terror realizing where the path had led me. _The oasis… _only now it was no longer the oasis. The trees of the oak that had before stood tall; promising and ensuring me safety from the shaska had since disappeared, and this meant that I could not be safe here either, "What's happened here?" I screamed, attempting to catch a glimpse of something-- _anything _that would possibly give me safety now… I stood; my knees were still trembling, and I continued to run; _Maybe the palace, _I thought, _The King said that I would be welcome to return-- I could warn him-- them. I could help D'Nalge fight…_

But then, I realized that I was quite unsure of the way to the palace. In my condition of thought and nervousness, it could take days-- maybe even weeks for me to be able to find the place that had once filled my naïve mind with wild dreams of a happy ending to my life after everything that had happened. I looked wildly around me, and started off in a random direction; it was then that I saw it-- a narrow path cut into the earth. A welcome change, but puzzling as how it had come to be nonetheless. _Maybe it leads somewhere, _I thought lamely, turning to take it, and finding myself in the midst of a large village sometime later-- roughly an hour. "Help!" I called out, but each and every one of the cottages was dark-- almost abandoned in appearance… _It's dead, _I realized shakily, _It's over-- everything… The shaska have won… _But then, I saw it-- a faint yellow light steadily glowing in the distance, and in most cases, light very easily translated to a sign of more life to be found-- helpful life-- hopeful life.

_Maybe it's not over then, _I thought hopefully, beginning to run towards the steadily glowing structure-- as I drew nearer, I realized that the beautiful structure, despise a few modernizations, was in fact the _palace, _and that safety, perhaps, could be found within.

"Thank God," I whispered; glad that my initial hopelessness had since gone. I ran through the village and then over a large bridge that connected the palace to the rest of the world-- all the while frightened by the sounds the ancient wood made as I sprinted across; half-dazedly wondering if something would go wrong and I would tumble to my doom some fifty feet below. In no time, I had entered the palace by means of the surprisingly open threshold to find a huge pair of men sitting on wooden stools in front of a roaring fire, playing cards as if the deplorable conditions of the outside world had little relevance to their lives. And all the same, here they were-- almost as if _waiting _for me. Primarily hesitant as I wished no ill upon myself, I eventually decided to venture my trust-- after all, there were no other options. "Can you please help me?" I asked approaching the pair as they continued to play unperturbed. "I'm Beatrice Horowitz, and I'm here to see the King."

They turned to face me and to my horror, I found their reply chilling as opposed to helpful to my goals here, "The _girl _has returned," one grunted to the other as if I was not present. They stood from their stools and I felt my heart beginning to race; I had never-- _never _seen a pair of mortals as frightening as they.

My eyes widened in disbelief, "Please," I begged, "I must--"

"Get her!" a voice screamed from high above, and before I could get away, my hands were being bound with heavy rope and I was being led down a dark corridor by the rougher of the two. The palace had changed as well. The former splendor-- the former grandeur was now gone, and I couldn't help but thinking that it had been some clever façade to hide the true corruptness of the world. "Please," I begged as we entered the ballroom where I had danced with the boy who might as well've died at my touch the previous year. The marble had been stripped away-- as if hawked for chump change. The beautiful paintings that had looked like something from the Renaissance had gone as well; all replaced by portraits of the same man-- the current King, I guessed, for in most of the portraits he clutched a golden scepter and wore a crown of gold to boot. Unlike his predecessor, he did not appear to be kind or good-natured. On the contrary, he came off as fierce-- _dangerous. _His piercing bright-green eyes from the portraits alone sent chills up my spine. "Please," I repeated, as they had ignored me, "I must--"

"Quiet," they commanded in unison.

"You don't understand--"

"Stop the little martyr act."

"I'm no martyr. If you'll please just--"

"_Shut up!" _the second guard screamed angrily, and not a second later, his hand come in contact with my cheek, and the sound of the smart slap echoed throughout the room. He pulled his hand away, and stared at it a moment in revulsion.

The spot burned, and my eyes stung with tears at the feeling. "Stop this madness," I begged, trying a final attempt to get my point across to the irrational-- and more-than-slightly drunk guards, "D'Nalge is in grave danger.

"_You _are the only danger here." the first hissed fiercely, tightening his grip on my shoulder.

"You're hurting me," I insisted.

"It matters not-- you'll hurt more as you burn in the morrow."

"No!" I screamed; panic by the malicious tone of sincerity his voice carried, _"Please," _I continued, "The shaska--"

"It was whispered that you were to return here… Over a thousand years ago, you became the first to successfully defeat a shaska--"

"_One thousand…?" _I murmured in disbelief as we passed a portrait of my long-deceased fiancé, and continued our plight down below. My heart began to pound more ferociously at the sight of a slight carving in the wall: _'Beatrice will return, and save us all.'_

"Impressed? Yes, for a few centuries, many built you up as some 'hero--' D'Nalge was never the same," he went on, as if I had not spoken, "You disappeared one night, and then others began to disappear as well. Your initial defeat became legend. Many remained unsure if the stories of you were true, but now you have returned to our noble land, and at dawn, you will be killed to at last appease the shaska-- along with the other… The last one left. Only then, will we rest in peace at night-- only then can our children roam the streets unafraid. You are the cause of all of this-- and you will end it."

"You've got it all wrong," I continued, "Nothing will stop them, and--"

I drifted off as we came to a sudden halt. My face was still burning, and I felt a trickle of blood from the rope cutting into my wrists, "No!" I screamerd, as he took a key out of his pocket and opened the large metal door that was now facing us, _"Please... I can save--"_

He hesitated before tossing me inside, "And what is this trinket?" he demanded, seizing the amulet from around my neck, and breaking it off with a loud snap.

"No," I insisted, horrified by the thought of having it taken away from me.

"Dark magic," the second agreed.

"Give me my--"

"_Get in there!" _he screamed, impatiently, and before I could even begin to fight I was heaved into the small square room, the door crashed shut with a loud bang and I heard the key going into the hole, and locking. _Damn, damn, _damn! I thought, that feeling of utter hopelessness returning to me, _How can they not see that I am not here to destroy?_

"No! Come back!" I screamed, pounding on the door with my fists, but no one answered. I was now alone. Alone. Alone and--

"I've been waiting all week for you," a gentle voice whispered behind me, and I realized that there was more danger still to be found within the cell.


	20. BACK TO D'NALGE: Imprisonment

_Chapter 20: BACK TO D'NALGE: Imprisonment_

"Who the _fuck _are you?" I demanded spinning around; my mind still a daze as the pound of the guard's slow footfalls slowly subsided until they were no more. They were long gone-- it would be useless to shout for assistance anyway. A prisoner harm a prisoner? They could care less. The door was slammed shu5t once again-- they had gone back up the stairs, and had most likely returned to their card game, unless they had alerted the King of my arrival. The bastards. They'd left me all alone with the strange boy, with no possibility of escape. Where was the justice in that-- had D'Nalge's legal system been abolished in order to allow happenings such as this? What bullshit. No trial, no lawyer, no nothing. And I would be executed come the sun tomorrow. What did that give me? Twelve hours? The situation was hopeless. Completely hopeless-- oh, well. It figured; the people I had been trying my best to save had fucked me over in the end, and here I was. All alone with a potential psychopath.

"A friend," he replied smoothly after having thought the question over as my thoughts raged. I instantly remembered the last time I had heard this answer; the dolt I had been then, perhaps I would fall into another trap lest I distrust him… I was no longer callow after that memorable instant with Travis's disguise some time before.

"I'm not sure I can trust you," I replied, carefully, "Friend or foe. I've placed my trust in others only to be deceived in the end. Forgive me if your intentions are good," my head was reeling. I needed to sit down.

"Don't be afraid of me," he replied as the two of us heard the door that had led to the stairs lock.

"Don't come any closer," I warned, and I allowed myself to venture nearer towards him in order to look upon his face, which turned out being perfect in every imaginable way, "I've dreamt of you for months," he whispered, "Ever since they first imprisoned me here-- I've needed you, and you've come," he had begun to cry-- how long, I knew not. I sighed, hoping he wasn't lying. Hoping he had not donned some clever façade in order to lampoon me. That his seemingly good intentions did not bode ill for me.

"But who are you?" I demanded shakily; trying my best to still sound strong and not appear frightened by his altogether bluntness-- he did not venture an answer. "Please," I whispered, "Please just tell me who you are and what has happened to this world."

"My name is Matthew," he whispered, "And I was sent here because I successfully killed a shaska about five years ago… The King of this world, Nicholas VII made a proclamation some time ago that anyone in D'Nalge associated with the shaska in any way, shape, or form would burn at the stake. It passed through parliament by a landslide. The deaths began immediately after-- that was about two years ago when signs emerged that the world was beginning to come to an end. My family and I successfully hid out in a neighboring village at the back of a storeroom in an abandoned cottage-- it took them over a year and a half to find us, and after having been identified by a backstabbing friend of my father's, we were led here to die. As you can see, I am the last alive; over five-thousand have gone before me. Including every member of my family-- my mother, my father, and my little sisters. They meant the world to me, but now they're all gone," he spoke the explanation with great speed-- as if under the impression that the world might end at any moment, leaving his story untold. Almost immediately after finishing, he began sobbing loud, disoriented sobs. My heart bled for him; he scared me. He seemed so helpless-- more helpless than even I. I stared at him, hoping what he had told me was true… Hoping that this would not be some cruel jest that would lead me to my end, "Time is ticking away for me, Beatrice… I've little left."

"As do I," I replied gently, after a long pause; now frightened for the boy as well as for myself. I decided my best bet was to trust him right then and there… After all, he seemed so distressed-- so utterly saddened by the losses he had endured. He spoke with such sincerity that I could not simply dismiss his tale as a lie. He needed me, and I knew that I had to do my best to protect him. He was weak now, and there was something about him-- his mannerisms were reminiscent of someone I'd loved in times passed. He was weak of mind as well as body; he would be subject to madness-- if he hadn't been already, and I was determined to at least tryto save him from going down _that _road-- even though we only had twelve hours-- if that.

In the period of uncomfortable silence that followed, I proceeded to peruse through the prison-cell. It was large-- enormous, even. I shuddered at the thought that it had once housed other prisoners-- hundreds at a time. A single window was our only look to the outside world; it was barred… an impossible escape tool. I bit my tongue in concentration, looking for a way out. There was evidence of mice-- maybe rats, and by no means was the cell scrupulously clean. The truth could be no further from it.

"Tell me your story," he began later, "Tell me about the life you have led after your fiancé was murdered and you were able to disappear from D'Nalge-- you must be a powerful girl to have done so, and to have returned ten centuries later to aid a fallen boy-- a mere waif in the scheme of things."

"I returned home to the earth," I began, "This guy, Travis killed me and my best friend Carla, and my spirit-- or whatever you call it here has been sent all throughout the memories of my mother and father. Travis attempted to destroy my soul, but I was successfully able to kill him-- a shaska," I added; seeing Matthew's wide eyes, "But he's dead now, and I have returned to D'Nalge to save it from its destined fate, though, as you can see, I have not been altogether successful as of yet," I then managed to show him my bound hands. The rope had stained a dull red, and I was surprised to find how simple it was to keep my great sense of humor in such an utterly dreadful situation.

He ignored them, and looked out the barred window, longing for the outside world, "But that's beside the point," he paused to laugh, "What's important is that you're here now… Can you save me?" he asked.

I was taken aback by the blunt question and it took me a while to reply, "I don't know anymore," I whispered. And in all truth, I was determined not to provide him with false hope-- for I knew how painful _that _could and would end up… If I showed false confidence, I would only end up sabotaging myself in the end. He had to know that there was a chance-- a high chance that nothing would come of my return to D'Nalge other than two fresh piles of ashes in the morning, "Those dammed guards didn't allow me much freedom," I presented my bound hands to him once again, and then gasped; recognizing his beautiful ice-blue eyes, "My God," I whispered, "I think I know you-- From a dream…"

"I thought it worked," a grin spread across his face, "A mere contact spell, but--"

"Then you're a--?"

"Fairy?" he asked, interrupting me, "No. If only. I would have been out of this cell the second they threw me in-- I wouldn't have had to call out to you, and D'Nalge would be long saved. Old magic is something that can be learned by anyone; minor healing spells, and contacting spells. Nothing much; otherwise, they'd all be alive," there was a tone of bitterness and anger in his voice that I easily recognized; a tone that I had only previously before heard in mine.

For one of the few moments of my life, I was at a loss for words. The headstrong, slightly intelligent, and at times, rash Beatrice for the first time in a long while actually felt compassion for another human being. I allowed myself to reach out and touch his smooth face, although my hands were still tied together, "I'm so sorry for you."

He nodded his head sadly.

Silence fell between the two of us once again. This time, however, it was warm-- comfortable, even. There was a mutual understanding between the two of us as we had both suffered great losses but were keen on attempting to move on, "I'll try to save you," I finally whispered, breaking the silence, "I _really _will."

"I know," he whispered.

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We lapsed into long moments of complete silence without saying a single word to the other. But every now and then, we'd break from the routine, and speak a few words of ourselves… Trying to make light of the circumstances and improve each others' mood, although it was useless.

I wanted to cry at the sight of him. Following that temporary uplift in his spirits at my arrival, he grew almost deathly tired. He was obviously sick-- though from what, I was unsure. I did not want to question him about it as I did not wish to make him feel any worse. He was extremely thin, and appeared weak. _Malnutrition, _I automatically thought, but there was more to it than that. He had obviously suffered much mental hardship. Poor guy. After about an hour of us trying to keep each other talking, he lay down on the cold stone floor and I stopped in mid-sentence. His eyes gently closed, and I lay beside him as he drifted off into sleep. I could not believe everything that had happened to his world; picturing the families of D'Nalge torn apart for the sake of the shaska made me almost sick with fury.

He felt so warm against me; his back to mine. My heart began racing, "Gone," Matthew was whispering-- muttering the word in his sleep, "All gone."

I shivered gently, and inched even closer towards the boy who needed me so.

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_It's all over…_

_And there is no way to save them. Those poor people-- the men, women and children that I had traveled all throughout the worlds to ultimately save are now dying. Screaming out my name, but I know-- and so do they that there is no way I can reach them. All I can do is watch them from the prison-cell along with Matthew as they all perish in angry fire and gray smoke; as the shaskas begin to feed reveling in their accomplishments, "Stop!" I scream, hoping that my objections can somehow reverse the bitter happenings. _

_I run to the bars of the cell, and frantically begin to tug, "Damn," I scream._

"_It's pointless," Matthew whispers, sadly._

"_But, we have to do-- _something," _I gasp from the strain._

"_It's pointless," he repeats, and the shackles reappear on my hands._

"_No, it's not," I whisper more to myself than him, "It can all work out if I can just--"_

"_Help!" a voice calls and I scream as I realize that a small child is screaming the word over and over again directly at me. I reach out to touch her, but she collapses onto the ground just outside the barred window not even a second before I am able to do so. The lacy white nightgown she wears quickly stains dark-red with blood._

_Everyone is dying, and although I long to help them, I know it is useless. It's over; the shaska have won._

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"Wake up, Beatrice," a gentle voice was whispering through the bitter cold darkness of the shadows-- a voice that whose owner was desperately attempting to reach me despite my fright and loud shivers. I felt myself being pulled away from the mass panic-- the chaotic screams, and the deaths. The countless murders of the innocent.

"Who's there?" I whispered, opening my eyes-- the dream had caused me to break out in a cold sweat, angry tears of frustration in my eyes. I paused to wipe them away before fully opening my eyes to look upon the faint outline of a handsome face.

"It's me," Matthew whispered, and I let out a sigh of great relief. No one had come to destroy me. I remained safe, and the events that had transpired within the dream were nonexistent. I breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Thank God," I whispered, still shivering, "I nearly thought--"

"I know," he interrupted, "I heard you in your sleep."

I stared deeply into his eyes, nearly becoming lost within them as I did so. I shook the feeling off, realizing I was shivering only partly from the dream I'd escaped, "Why's it so cold?" I asked wondering if it was possible that we would both freeze to death before our scheduled execution at dawn. I laughed at the thought of the two guards-- maybe even the King himself rushing in, wanting to see us die in agony only to have their dreams crushed by finding our freezing cold corpses.

My teeth chattered loudly and I inched closer still to him for more warmth, "The four winds meet here at around midnight every evening," he explained, "It'll warm up in less than an hour. Don't worry," he smiled warmly.

I grinned a strained grin and stifled a yawn, "At least it won't be as cold in the morning when they come to--"

"No. Don't you get it, Beatrice? There's not going to be a 'tomorrow!' It has been prophesized for centuries that tomorrow, just before dawn, D'Nalge will perish in fire and smoke. What's left of this decimated world will at last cease to be. Nothing but a memory will remain-- albeit a small one," his eyes sparkled with slight fear.

_Just like in my dream, _I realized frightened, but I could not admit to that just yet. I wasn't sure whether or not Matthew knew of the dreams (or slight visions) I'd been sent during my previous stay. My head reeling, and deciding not to blow up over the fact he'd failed to mention this before, I pressed on, "But how do you know all of this?" I asked, almost eagerly-- intent on learning more. Whatever more I learned might help me turn the tables in my favor once again.

"The stones," he replied simply, turning his back to me, "A man imprisoned here centuries ago-- a prophet. He was beheaded for treason-- legend has it that he prophesized that the King's first daughter would die before the age of seventeen-- she did. He made them all and most ended up coming true."

My head continued to reel at this surge of information. I opened my mouth. "But--"

"Just look," he whispered, at last cutting me off, as he gestured towards one of the larger stones that made up the wall **_" 'IN THE TIME OF THE NEW MILLENIA, A BATTLE BETWEEN GOOD AND WICKED SHALL BE FOUGHT," _**I nodded just before zoning out. Having heard the prophecy from Elaine, and then many times-- _too many times _over and over again in my mind throughout the last year, I did not wish to hear it again-- not just yet.

So, here it was. Some lunatic had foreseen my future. And how funny was it that it all came back here-- that it could all be traced back to D'Nalge… All that time I'd spent here before, not knowing that the root to all my troubles and misfortune was a mere few miles away-- mere feet below me as I'd danced with the prince at the ball. It all came back to D'Nalge-- everything came back here…

It made no sense, and yet it made all the sense in the world. It was so God-damn ambiguous, I longed to throw my head back and scream.

_I need to figure out a way to--_

But the words were different now. He was reciting a certain part of the prophecy that I had never heard before. I stared intently at my trembling hands, **_" 'THUS ENDING IN THE DEATH OF A WORLD. IN THE PERIOD OF UNCERTAINTY THAT FOLLOWS--"_**

He stopped suddenly and without warning. I turned back to face him, slightly vexed, "Go on," I whispered, now excited to hear the remainder of the prophecy-- the crucial words that Elaine had mysteriously left out.

"But that's all there is here," he whispered. "The rest was removed centuries ago and taken to a lost world-- something to do with policies at the time-- not that they've improved as of today. No one knows where the second half of the prophecy went to, but surely you have heard it as it concerns you?" he inclined his head slightly, and looked into my eyes hopefully; causing my heart to race with passion-- or at least that's the only word I can find to describe it.

"No," I replied, deeply irked by Elaine's gargantuan lack of information, "I've only heard the first half-- like everyone else," and I leaned in to find that the stone on which the prophecy had carefully been carved into was only half there; a jagged line splitting it right down the middle. I suddenly envisioned that same jagged line entering me; changing everything I'd believed and been taught. "But who would take it?" I pondered.

"Who do you think?" he asked as I realized the answer.

"Then--"

But I could not speak at all anymore as the cell had suddenly begun to shake violently A piece of ceiling fell from above us, and narrowly missed hitting my head as I was able to dodge it at the last second.

"What's happening?"

"It's beginning," I heard Matthew whisper in the darkness.


End file.
